


A Twist of Fate

by Persnickety_1



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cullen Rutherford Fluff, Cullen Rutherford Smut, Eluvians, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friendship/Love, Non-Canon Relationship, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Cullen Rutherford, Slow Build, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2018-10-14 23:04:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 37,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10545850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persnickety_1/pseuds/Persnickety_1
Summary: Set after Trespasser and the disbandment of the Inquisition. Cullen Rutherford is trying to carve out a life for himself outside of the Inquisition. But as yet another tragedy strikes our favorite ex-Commander, he finds himself struggling with the stagnant life he now leads. When a stranger steps out of the woods and into his life, things become far from boring.





	1. Chapter 1

Wisps of light escaped through the copse of trees, playing shadows on the grassy knoll. A breeze blew gently, lifting the blonde waves of his shaggy hair from his sweat-drenched forehead and pulling the pale linen shirt away from his body, allowing his over-heated skin to breathe. He knelt on one knee before the simple headstone, his eyes closed, right hand fisted next to his heart in a salute, and head bowed. Whispered words lilted in prayer, the softness of his rich accent rolling off of his tongue. The caw of a raven echoed, the fluttering of wings vibrating through the air as the black-winged bird took flight.

 

The wind carried a few leaves from nearby trees, scattering them across the landscape as the foliage of the forest rustled around him. He held his eyes closed, desperately trying to conjure up a single image, _any_ image, of her face. It had been one year to the day and as time passed, he had found it harder and harder to remember such little things like the color of her eyes, the way she smiled... her smell, a natural fragrance that was synonymous to only her. He wondered how it could be that the one person he had dared to care about above all others, was now turning into the one person he could barely remember the details of.

 

He lifted his head and opened his caramel-colored eyes. His gaze fell upon the memorial, upon the words carefully engraved into the stone. _Angeline Rutherford. Beloved Wife._ Oh, but she was so much more... Or could have been had she been given more time to do all of the things she had planned to do.

 

She had seen no more than twenty-three years of her life before her soul had been taken from her body. And he had only been given a mere two years to be with her, to care for her. He had just started to feel himself let his guard down around her, maybe even allow himself to love her. But time had been stolen from them, the life they had planned to spend together nothing more than a cruel joke.

 

Cullen Rutherford had given his life to the Order from the young age of thirteen. He had lived through the fall of the Ferelden Circle, the death and destruction of the Mages and Templars at Kinloch Hold, and the torture and despair he had endured at the hands of a blood Mage by the name of Uldred. Cullen had seen the world through rose-colored blinders while he held post at the Kirkwall Circle under the strict and merciless rule of his Knight-Commander, Meredith, until the infamous Chantry Explosion that tallied an unprecedented death toll and crippled a city. It had taken years to help recover from that devastation. Finally, he had found the strength within himself to leave the Order once and for all, to command the armies of the Inquisition. He had thrown himself into that cause wholeheartedly, had given the Inquisition all that he had. It was a worthy cause, and one he was proud to have been part of. He had walked away having felt like those three years with the Inquisition were the most important years of his life. The friendships he had forged were those that would last a lifetime. The work that he had done... nothing could ever compare to that feeling of accomplishment. As far as Cullen had been concerned, his life had felt complete. There was nothing he could have wanted or needed at that point.

 

In all of those previous years, Cullen had never thought himself to be the marrying type of person. It wasn't that he did not want to find a wife and start a family. It was simply something he never thought he could have and so therefore never dwelled on the possibility. But there had been something about Angeline that had just pulled him in from the moment they had met. And all of the doubts he had over marriage had faded away. He had cared about Angeline a great deal more than he could ever remember caring for another person.

 

Cullen had only been in South Reach no more than a few days. It had been a quick trip to visit his family whom he had not seen in nearly twenty years. He had no plans further than spending time with his siblings when he had met Angeline at the local tavern while having a drink with his younger brother, Branson. Their eyes had met and she had smiled. That was all it had taken for Cullen to be completely hooked.

 

Angeline was honest and kind, with a smile that could light up an entire room. She was unblemished by the cruelty he had seen firsthand. Her naivete was what had pulled him in from the start. And although Cullen had had women in his past, they were never anything more than casual dalliances. Sex was always easy. Yet, when it came to matters of the heart, he had always found himself quite the bumbling fool. But she had not minded... had found it endearing even. That was when he had known she was worth keeping. They had wed within the first few months of meeting. Life had been amazing. They had planned to buy their own land in South Reach, to raise a family together... He and Angeline had had an entire lifetime planned out. But then she came down with a grave illness that she would never recover from. And that life had been extinguished.

 

He had tried not to linger on the unfairness of it all. But he was nothing more than a mortal man with contaminated thoughts. At first, he had withdrawn into himself and refused to allow even his family to help him through his grief. Then his sadness had dissipated into anger. There had been many nights spent at that same local tavern where he had found his Angeline, staring into the bottom of one empty tankard of ale after the other. When the alcohol couldn't even dull his pain any longer, he had taken to initiating random fights with men ten times bigger than himself. There was nothing better to ease the ache of a sad heart than to get the shit kicked out of him several times over. It had taken one particularly severe beating that had almost claimed his life for him to realize that he had been headed down a slippery slope of misguided rage. And that was when he had finally broken down, had let his brother and sisters, the only family he had left help him put back together the pieces of his shattered world. He had felt what it was like to be loved first hand, had come so close to knowing how to love another... The life he had thought he could never have had been dangled in front of him and then ripped away in another quick instance. It had been unjust.

 

Now that it had been a full year since losing Angeline so suddenly, his heart still hurt but mostly for the what ifs and the almosts... What if they had had more time together? Could he have finally let his guard down and let her in wholly and completely? Could he have loved her? He cared for her deeply, of that he was certain. But could he have truly fallen in love with her one day? Cullen wasn't so sure. Ever since Kinloch hold... the things he had been shown, the way the demon was able to twist his thoughts, Cullen had kept a tight leash on his emotions when it came to matters of the heart. He had truly cared for Angeline. He was willing to spend his life with her. But Cullen had not been in love with her, not truly. He wanted to but...

 

And she knew. Angeline was completely aware of Cullen's feelings... or lack thereof. Somehow, it had been enough for her. Yet, it was not nearly enough for Cullen. He wanted to just once in his life feel that all-consuming fire and passion; the kind books were written about. It had been such a long time since he had been passionate about anything... He just needed to... _live_ again!

 

His life these days was nothing more than one dull and sentient moment after the next. Since the wounds on his heart had finally healed, it almost felt like he was now wasting away, precious days he should have spent living seemed to roll from one into the next of monotonous nothing. Cullen wanted more... _needed_ more. But what he was looking for was the bigger question. He just didn't know.

 

He felt a hand on his shoulder and glanced up, his amber eyes meeting soft green. The breeze had lifted the auburn curls of her shoulder length hair, whipping it around her face. Her mouth tilted into a tender smile. “Cullen,” she said in a very quiet voice, almost as if she were afraid she would prove bothersome to the memorials of the departed littered around them.

 

“Yes, Rosalie,” he replied to his younger sister with his own faint smile.

 

“Branson sent me to fetch you. There's a storm blowing in and when the herd returned from pasture, we were missing one of the foals.”

 

Cullen closed his eyes and nodded. He knew that the only way they would recover that foal was if he and his brother set off in opposite directions to search. Lifting his right fist from his heart to his lips, Cullen placed a soft kiss to the knuckle of his first finger and whispered another quick prayer before rising back to his feet.

 

He followed Rosalie to his brown and white steed, tethered next to her pure white mare. In one fluent motion, Cullen placed his booted foot into the stirrup, grabbed tight to the horn, and lifted himself into the saddle. With a gentle dig of his heels into the horse's flanks, he headed back to their homestead, trailing closely behind his sister.

 

They followed the dirt path away from the graveyard until it connected with a heavily tree-laden gravel road. Their travel quickened as they set the horses' pace to a gallop, and as the two story homestead came into view, set in the middle of a sweeping horizon of green fields, a vast wooden barn with fenced in pastures filled with a variety breed of horses, all nestled in a valley of rolling hills and deep-wooded forests, Rosalie and Cullen parted ways. She headed towards the stables to secure their returning herd before the oncoming storm bared down upon them and Cullen set out towards the open pasture in search of his brother.

 

Cullen scanned the horizon, making note of how the black clouds swirled ominously in the sky. The wind had picked up speed, forcing the trees in the distance to bend against their will as blades of grass waved back and forth and green leaves blew across the open land. He spotted Branson astride his great black stallion and made his way to his younger brother.

 

Branson lifted his long fingers to comb loose strands of his honey-colored hair away from his face. “I'm sorry to pull you away but I need your help,” he said softly with a consoling smile.

 

Branson knew what day it was, had been there when Cullen had found Angeline dead in their now abandoned little cottage nestled in the hills of the Rutherford farmland. They had just returned from a trip to Denerim where they had gone to secure a new gelding to breed, that remarkable black stallion that Branson sat astride now. Angeline had said she wasn't feeling well before Cullen had left South Reach. He had offered to stay home, to take care of her. She had instead insisted that he go, that she would be fine. And so, Cullen had left.

 

His eldest sibling, Mia, had said she had made a trip to check on Angeline the day before Cullen had returned home. Mia had invited her to the main house for dinner. Angeline had declined, saying that she was just really tired. That was the last time Angeline had been seen alive.

 

Cullen shook his head, forcing his wayward thoughts back to reality, and shrugged. “It is fine. What do you need me to do?”

 

“We are missing one of the newlings, a black and white foal. She somehow got separated from her mother. I have a few of the hired hands out looking for her but there's too much ground to cover. If you will go east, I will go west and we will circle around and meet in the middle.”

 

Cullen nodded as his gaze swept across the darkening sky before locking with Branson's soft gray eyes. “Be safe, brother. It looks like this storm could start baring down on us at any moment.”

 

Branson nodded with a sigh as he swiped his forearm across his sweat-drenched brow. “I was about to say the same to you. If the weather gets too bad, turn back.”

 

“And if you get caught in it, find somewhere to hunker down until it's safe,” Cullen added.

 

“Agreed,” Branson conceded as he drove his heels into his horse's flanks and headed west in search of the missing foal.

 

Cullen watched his brother disappear into the distance before setting out to the east, scanning the open fields for any sign of the lost little pony. Lightning flashed in the distance as he urged his steed towards the foliage of the forest.

 

He maneuvered through the thicket of trees and brush, keeping his attention focused. The wind now blew heavily around him, forcing previously inanimate objects to now become dangerous weapons in the form of flying tree limbs. Cullen shielded his eyes from the airborne debris, carefully leading the horse through the forest.

 

The sky grew menacing, black clouds darkening the forest. Lightning slashed again through the darkness, thunder exploding loudly in his ears. Without warning, his horse let out a shrill whinny and raised up on her back legs, front legs pawing at the air. Cullen, caught completely off guard, was unable to recover his grip on the horse's reigns and found himself thrown from the frightened gelding. Before he even had the opportunity to regain his composure and pull himself from the ground, the horse had taken off at a fast gallop, leaving Cullen stranded.

 

Muttering profanities under his breath, Cullen righted himself. He glanced around the thick forest in an attempt to get his bearings back. The storm was closing in, causing the wind to rage around him as rain began to spill from the sky. The drops battered his face and plastered his hair to his forehead, making it hard for him to see. This was rapidly turning into a very bad situation and he needed to find his way to a clearing and quickly.

 

Suddenly, he felt the hairs on the nape of his neck stand at attention. Once a Templar, always a Templar... he felt the strange magic emanating from behind him before the bolt of lightning came flying towards him. Cullen turned on one foot with his hand already reaching for the blade he always kept safely at his side. Just as he drew the shiny metal from its sheath, he saw the bolt connect with it's victim... which Cullen was grateful to see was _not_ him, but a black wolf that had been looking for a snack... and Cullen was about to be its tasty meal.

 

Mouth agape, his eyes slowly arose from the dead wolf to the slender figure standing before him. Long black hair whipped around her face in the wind and rain. She stood before him with her hands in the air, poised to hurl another lightning bolt if necessary, bare feet spread apart for balance in case she needed to defend herself against a physical attack. Her tattered and torn clothes were plastered provocatively to her lean and muscled shape, leaving very little of her curves to the imagination. He slowly lifted his eyes to meet hers; the clearest, brightest blue eyes he had ever gazed upon.

 

Despite being completely lost in the depths of those amazing blue eyes, Cullen hadn't forgotten his years of training... the moment he heard the footfalls on the ground behind him, he turned with the blade of his dagger poised and ready to defend.

 

As the other man's sword arced through the air, Cullen took a step back and ducked out of the way just as the blade was about to connect with his shoulder. He could hear the crackle of lightning behind him. The stranger fought against her own foe with magic as Cullen took on the one before him. The man was a worthy opponent and although it had been years, Cullen found himself falling back into the dance of battle as if it had been only yesterday. He fought the urge to glance over his shoulder to make sure the Mage behind him was okay as he concentrated on dispensing himself of the aggressive fighter aiming to end his life. A quick step to the right... a jab to the left... a step back... a lunge forward... As Cullen plunged the tip of his dagger into the rib cage of his adversary, he narrowed his eyes and watched the man's face as life left him. Once he was satisfied that victory was his, Cullen removed the blade of his dagger from the man's flesh and turned to the Mage just as her opponent was slicing his sword across her abdomen. Cullen could see the blood stain her clothes immediately as her hands flew to the open wound and she fell helplessly to the ground.

 

For some reason, he immediately felt anger wash over him. Perhaps it was because this woman had just saved his life. He did not know, nor did he care. With a low growl, Cullen palmed the hilt of the knife, lifted his hand slightly back behind his ear, and flung the dagger forward, watching it sail through the air before landing perfectly in between the man's eyes.

 

Quickly, Cullen retrieved his blade from the man's face, tucking it safely back into the buckle of his breeches, and ran to the unconscious body of the Mage. He pushed her thick, rain-soaked black hair away from her pale face and leaned over her, grateful to feel her breath against his cheek. He leaned back on his heels and closed his eyes to the pounding rain. _Think_... He needed to think, to get his bearings. If he had headed east to look for the missing foal, then he should not be too far from their hunting cabin. And if he could get the two of them there, he could tend to her wound, provide a warm fire, blankets, food...

 

With a plan and a direction, Cullen opened his eyes and sighed heavily as he wrapped one arm around the unconscious woman's shoulders and hooked his other arm under her knees. He lifted her from the ground effortlessly and with slow and careful steps, picked his way through the darkened forest in what he hoped was the direction of the hunting cabin.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The one-room, wooden cabin looked dank and gloomy. In the midst of the darkness from the clouded sky, the rain pouring sideways from the heavens, and the trees still bending unnaturally in the relentless wind, the structure was uninviting to say the least. But anything that provided shelter from the unforgiving storm would do at that point.

 

Cullen held onto his precious cargo as he carefully toed open the door, shutting it softly behind him with his hip as he slid inside. He spared a brief glance at her face, barely able to make out her features beneath the curtain of wet hair draped all around her. Making his way to one of two beds shoved against a wall in the corner, Cullen lowered her with careful ease to the mattress. As he made to pull his arm out from under her shoulders, she wrapped her own around his neck and nuzzled into his chest. He could feel her shiver against him and, suppressing a thoughtful smile, he removed his arm from around her and gently pried himself out of her grip.

 

He felt the chill settle over his body and imagined if he was cold, she had to be freezing. But first things first... if he did not tend to her wound, freezing to death would be the least of her problems. With soft steps, he walked purposefully to the other side of the cabin and reached inside one of three wooden cabinets next to the fireplace. He reached for a jar of salve they always kept on hand in case of injury and the roll of bandages. There were limited supplies and it was unfortunate that he had not made sure to restock after his last hunting adventure with Branson in the late fall. But still... why would he have? It was not like they would be using this cabin until fall chilled the air.

 

Cullen turned on one foot, supplies in hand, and made his way back to her still unconscious form. He knelt down next to her, setting the salve and bandaging on the side table next to the bed. With a soft sigh and a mere moment of hesitation, Cullen lifted shaking fingers to brush the hair away from her face and tuck the soaked strands behind her ears so he could get an unobstructed look at her. He immediately snatched his hands back as if he had just been burned... This woman, this Mage that had appeared out of nowhere in the forest and saved him from a lone and hungry wolf was an Elf... Which three years ago would have been nothing to think twice about. But these days were very different seeing that most of the Elves had disappeared after the fall of Corypheus... after the disappearance of the man the entire Inquisition had once trusted, had called friend... _Solas_!

 

Only a few remained, among those few being his dear friend, Maerel Lavellan, former leader of the Inquisition, and Sera, one of Maerel's companions. The last Cullen had heard, Sera was roaming somewhere in the Free Marches alone, still doing deeds for the Red Jennys, and Maerel had been spending a lot of his time in Orlais, mainstreaming a secret mission for Divine Victoria.

 

There was no explanation to the disappearance of the Elves. Many had tried to figure out the mystery of their departure and many had failed. It had happened randomly and suddenly; one by one City and Dalish alike had began to disappear into the shadows of the night until their race barely existed in Thedas. Some said Solas was building an army and others... others being Maerel who had confronted Solas face to face and had learned of his true identity, believed that his plan was to somehow use the Elves as a way to conquer all of Thedas, to restore the Elvhen people to their former glory. But it had been over three years since that confrontation between Maerel and Solas, who they all now knew to be Fen'Harel, in The Crossroads and nothing had happened. And yet, Cullen had always known in the back of his mind that the storm to come was inevitable. It was why he had been so quick to marry Angeline and start truly trying to live his life. There was no guarantee for tomorrow or next week. The thought that he had wasted so much of his time over the last year, anger and resentment preventing him from moving forward, sickened him. Seeing this woman, this Elf appear out of nowhere had to be a foreboding of what was to come.

 

Cullen drew in an unsteady breath and shook his head. So many questions now swirled around inside. Who was she? What was she doing here? Who were those men and were they trying to kill her because they knew? But the most important question of all... the one that necessitated the most immediate answer was... Where had she been?

 

Putting all of those thoughts and questions to the back of his mind, Cullen drew his concentration towards the task at hand. There wasn't going to be a chance to get answers to his questions if she died before he could ask her. He cautiously and slowly reached forward to the thin fabric of her blood and rain-soaked tunic, sliding the flimsy garment up from her slender abdomen to expose the wound that needed dressing. But as he lifted the white fabric further up her torso, all Cullen saw was smooth pale skin, no wound.

 

Suddenly and without warning, the hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention once again. Slender fingers the temperature of icicles abruptly wrapped around the tanned skin of his bare wrist. His eyes immediately darted to her face, to those bright blue eyes staring back at him behind half-closed lids. He reacted a moment too late and before he could pull his wrist out of her grip, the bolt of electricity traveled up his arm and into his chest, giving Cullen enough of a jolt to not only suck the breath out of him but fling him backwards onto the floor.

 

He struggled to sit up, to catch his breath, his eyes never leaving hers as she quickly sat upright, pulled her legs underneath her body, and squatted on the mattress, hands held up in front of her, poised and ready to throw another arc of electricity his way.

 

Cullen maintained eye contact, slowly lifting his own hands into the air before him in a gesture of surrender. In a soft, even voice, he said, “I do not want to hurt you. I'm only trying to help.”

 

Her eyes were now wide, those shimmering pools of blue fixed on his face. He could almost see the storm raging behind her gaze more violently than the one outside. She studied him intently, silently surveying his body language, the sincerity in his own reflecting stare. He watched as she cocked her head to the side, one side of her mouth almost lifting slightly in what could only be an intriguingly amused smirk. He wasn't quite sure what she found to be so amusing... perhaps that he, being a grown man quite literally two times her size, had been thrown across the room by the force of her magic. What made that thought sad was that Cullen imagined she had only unleashed a third of her power and feared for the man or woman that found themselves unfortunate enough to feel the totality of her wrath. Or perhaps she was amused by that same grown man that was twice her size now cowering in the corner with his hands up, practically begging her not to hurl another lightning bolt in his direction. Either way, he was not amused here. Quite the opposite, actually.

 

Very slowly, she lowered her hands, stood to her full height, and jumped down off of the bed to the floor. Her bare feet carried her the short distance she had thrown Cullen and she knelt down before him, wordlessly reached for his wrist and lifted it to her face so that she could examine the burn she had left in the wake of her attack.

 

Up close and personal, Cullen studied her features as she concentrated on the wound she had inflicted on him. Her skin was smooth but unnaturally pale, her face slender and graceful. She had a dainty nose that sported a small spray of light freckles across the bridge. Her lips were full and lush. And those eyes. They were as blue as the sky on a cloudless day with tiny flecks of gold... The breath left his lungs once again but for an entirely different reason. Kneeling before him was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on and Cullen found it difficult to tear his gaze away.

 

He watched her as she lifted his wrist higher, as those perfectly plump and gorgeous lips of hers puckered and he only closed his own eyes when her soft breath escaped her mouth and she blew against the tender burn of his skin. She blew softly until he could slowly feel the burning sensation leave his flesh. When she was done, Cullen opened his eyes again and stared at her. That lopsided smirk was back as she flipped his arm around to show him her handiwork. The previously singed skin was now perfectly healed. Cullen didn't know what to say and so he went with a softly whispered, “Thank you.”

 

She merely nodded and violently shivered as she wrapped her own arms around her body.

 

“We both need to get out of these wet clothes or we will surely freeze to death.”

 

Her eyes flicked to his, as if caught off guard by the sound of his voice. With one eyebrow raised inquisitively, she cocked her head sideways and stared at him as if she did not understand his words. Cullen offered her an encouraging smile and motioned for her to stand up. She raised from her crouched position slowly and cautiously. Waiting until she stood at her full height, Cullen just as slowly and cautiously pulled himself from the floor and stood before her. He towered over her a good foot and in an attempt to be less intimidating, he took a step back and away from her.

 

“I have blankets,” he explained as he slowly maneuvered to a chest at the end of one of the beds. Cullen pulled out two plain brown cotton blankets, offering one to her and nodding with encouragement.

 

Her eyes never left his as she slowly reached out and took the blanket from Cullen's hands. One side of his mouth tilted upwards in a delicate smile. He did not know if she understood what he was saying but continued to try. “We need to get out of these wet clothes if we are to warm up.” And just for good measure to make sure she understood what he was saying, he reached for the hem of his own rain-soaked tunic and lifted it up and over his torso, pulling the fabric over his head, and tossing it on the floor next to him.

 

The woman nodded her understanding and suddenly reached for the hem of her own tattered and drenched shirt, started to lift it up over her abdomen until Cullen began to choke and sputter and put his hand out to stop her. “Wait! Stop!”

 

She paused in mid-action, her brow furrowing in confusion.

 

“I... uh...” Cullen's eyes darted around the room nervously. “I'll turn around so you have privacy,” he said in a rush and turned his back to her. “Alright. Let me know when you're... um... undressed... er... that is, wrapped in the blanket and _not_ naked... uh... except for underneath the blanket because you should take off your clothes... because they're wet, not because I'm trying to get you out of your clothes.” He tugged in a deep breath and groaned at his own obvious inadequacy. “I'm just going to stop talking now.”

 

Cullen pulled his blanket around his shoulders, and with his back still towards the woman, toed off both boots and unbuttoned his pants, sliding them down his legs and leaving him in nothing but his small clothes. He wrapped the blanket around himself tighter and concentrated his stare on a very uninteresting spot on the wall in front of him. The room was too silent and his thoughts were chaotic. Cullen cleared his throat, desperately needing to say something, anything, to fill the quietness. “Thank you, by the way,” he managed in what sounded clumsy to even his own ears. “For the wolf, that is. I... am not usually that ignorant to my surroundings. I'm ashamed to say, I was quite preoccupied with the the fact that my horse had just literally deposited me on my ass and I was not paying attention.” When she did not answer, Cullen continued. “That storm is something else. I fear we may have to bunker down here tonight. But once I get a fire started, I can see about maybe preparing some dinner. We can let our clothes dry by the fire and get some rest and then tomorrow, we can try to figure everything out.”

 

Her hand landed on his arm and Cullen startled, slowly turning his head to meet her gaze. She stood beside him, wrapped up in the warm blanket, long black hair pulled over one shoulder and tucked inside of the blanket as well. A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth and those eyes... bright and shimmering and so very intense.

 

“Better?” he asked softly, so completely lost in the depths of her eyes.

 

She merely nodded, her smile broadening.

 

He searched her face, their gaze locking. There was something in her expression, an almost discernment in her demeanor. “Do you understand what I'm saying?”

 

Her response was another slow nod of her head.

 

“Alright. Well that's a start.” Cullen turned to face her, offering her a small smile of his own. He studied her features again, memorizing the details of her face. His original assessment of this woman still rang true. She was... breathtaking.

 

“For what it's worth,” he said softly, his gaze locked on her mesmerizing eyes, “you can trust me.”

 

Cullen watched as she swallowed hard, as tears threatened to spill from her suddenly sad eyes. Unexpectedly, she closed the distance between them and leaned into him, resting her cheek against his broad chest. Cullen cleared his throat nervously, and something inside of him broke a little. He lifted his arms and wrapped them around her shoulders, pulling her closer into his embrace. With his cheek resting against the top of her head, eyes closed, he whispered, “It will all be alright. I will keep you safe. You have my word.”

 

 

~*~

 

 

Cullen had found enough dried wood to get the fire going, of that he was grateful for. The cabin was already feeling warmer and he hoped that warmth would get them through the night because once that wood burned down to ashes and the flames went out, that was it. Again, Cullen had wished he and Branson had made sure there were enough provisions in the cabin after their last hunting excursion. Luckily, he was a man who knew how to make do. He and his charge would be fine until morning. But until then... he needed to at least make sure they had food in their bellies. Of everything else that had somehow come together so far in this ridiculously fucked up situation, food was something he was not sure he could pull off. If anything, there might be a bag of oats he could use to make them each a bowl of porridge.

 

As Cullen dug through cabinets and drawers, he glanced over his shoulder to check on his new friend. She sat before the fireplace, blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders and tucked under her chin. Her sad eyes stared into the licking flames, eyes that looked like they had seen too much, knew too much and yet could vaguely recall any of it. She looked tired and weary and Cullen wondered how long she had been roaming the woods without sleep or food.

 

Cullen felt himself sweating beneath his own blanket and pulled it from around his shoulders. He knew he couldn't walk around in his smalls and his clothes were still soaked by the fireplace. Instead, he wrapped the blanket around his waist, tucking it ever so carefully so that it was tight in place. Bare from the waist up might not have been the most acceptable, but it would have to do if he did not want to melt from the inside out in the now overly warm heat of the cabin.

 

He pulled his attention back to preparing their dinner. As he had suspected, there was just enough oats in the tin for two portions so he tucked the tin under his arm and as he reached for wooden bowls and spoons, Cullen felt the hair at the nape of his neck stand on end again. He turned his head just as she was coming to stand next to him. What was it about this woman that caused such a reaction in him? Just looking into those crystal blue eyes caused his stomach to pitch nervously. In his entire thirty-six years, he had never felt such a physical reaction to another being before. It was as if just being next to her made his senses come alive...

 

She had wrapped the blanket around her bosom, tucking it under her arms so that her shoulders were bare and her arms were free.

 

Realizing that he was staring, Cullen cleared his throat nervously and plastered a lop-sided smile on his face. “May I help you?” he asked teasingly.

 

She held her hands out and nodded towards the two wooden bowls and silverware he held in his hands.

 

“What? You want to help?” he chuckled.

 

Her reply was a curt nod of her head.

 

“Alright.” Cullen handed the bowls and spoons to her. “Take these over to the fire and I'll meet you there.”

 

She gave another quick nod of her head as she took the dishes from him and shuffled away.

 

Cullen grabbed a pot from the cabinet before shutting the doors, reached for the canteen that he had made sure had water stored in it from the last time he was up here, grateful he had made at least that provision before locking the cabin up for the season, and followed her over to the fire. He took a seat next to her on the rug before the fireplace and began mixing the oats and water into the metal pot. She watched him intently as he worked and Cullen caught her gaze long enough to throw a quick smile her way. He was rewarded with a wink and a smile, which ultimately caused his stomach to flutter like a thousand butterflies were ready to take flight.

 

Once the pot was set over the fire and all they had to do at that point was wait, Cullen turned towards the pretty little Elf and offered her another warm smile. “Do you mind if we talk for a bit while we wait for dinner to cook?”

 

She shook her head and turned to face him, to give him her full attention.

 

“Alright. Just so that I am clear... You understand everything I am saying to you?”

 

She nodded.

 

“But you are unable to speak?”

 

She chewed on her bottom lip as she considered her answer to his question. Inhaling nervously, she opened her mouth to speak, but then her expression crumbled into confusion, as if she had lost the words she was trying to convey. Finally, she lifted a hand to her chest and said in a very soft, very delicate voice, “Ma' melin Calista.”

 

Cullen's brow furrowed, his eyes searching hers. “I'm sorry. I don't understand.”

 

She groaned with frustration and shifted where she sat. Her eyes darted around the room, as if somewhere in the confines of the cabin she would find the words that were eluding her. She cleared her throat and said again, “Ma' melin Calista.” She removed her hand from her chest and reached out to place it on Cullen's. “Mar' melin?...”

 

Cullen shook his head slowly, still not understanding. She crinkled her nose as she grunted with annoyance. If he knew she wouldn't be offended, he would have chuckled at just how adorable she looked all flummoxed and vexed.

 

She let out a soft sigh and tapped her chest with her hand again. “Calista.” Her hand tapped Cullen's chest and she nodded at him expectantly.

 

Then as if suddenly understanding something that was rather elementary, Cullen felt like such a fool. “Your name? Is that what you're saying? Your name is Calista?”

 

She smiled brightly and nodded her head with renewed excitement. “Vin!” Tapping his chest, she said again, “Mar' melin?”

 

“Cullen. My name is Cullen.”

 

With a satisfyingly smug grin, Calista lifted her hand from his chest and held it out before her expectantly. Cullen's eyes left hers for merely a moment to glance at her out-stretched hand before his gaze settled on her face once again. He lifted his hand to hers and allowed her to wrap her delicately tiny fingers around his large palm. The moment they touched, Cullen felt another little jolt of electricity flow through his body that had nothing to do with her magic. They held each others gaze and if Cullen hadn't known any better, he almost saw her eyes flicker with the same unexplained surge of attraction he was feeling flow through his entire being.

 

She released his hand and smiled brightly. “Ra's a neral.”

 

Cullen heard the mixture of water and oats bubbling on the fire and quickly leaned forward to remove their dinner from the heat, stirring the steamy contents with one of the wooden spoons. He set the pot to the side for a moment to give it time to cool before turning his attention back to Calista.

 

“So you understand everything that I'm saying but you can only speak Elvhen?” he asked, one eyebrow cocked curiously. “How is that possible?”

 

She shrugged one shoulder and said, “Ar tel' eolasa.”

 

“You don't know,” he repeated back to her, not needing to speak Elvhen to understand her words. Cullen searched her face and as he saw her expression crumble, he realized that they just needed a different way to communicate was all. “How about I ask you a yes or no question? You can either nod or shake your head...”

 

She offered him a timid smile, but nodded and pursed her lips, apparently ready to play his game if that was what it took.

 

“Alright. Let's start with an easy one. Are you hungry?” he asked, gesturing towards the cooling porridge.

 

She nodded with a slight grin.

 

“Hungry enough to eat _that_?” he said with a chuckle as he nodded towards their very unappetizing looking dinner.

 

Calista let out a soft little laugh and nodded again.

 

“Very well,” Cullen sighed as he reached over to the pot and carefully poured the still steaming contents evenly into both bowls. Setting the pot off to the side, he shoved a spoon into each bowl and lifted one out to Calista. “I dare say you've been warned.” His gaze remained trained on her as she lifted a spoonful to her mouth and puckered her lips, blowing on the porridge to cool it down before she took a bite. She grimaced as she swallowed, her nose crinkling up with disgust. Cullen laughed, forcing a low and playful growl from the Elf. “I'm sorry,” he apologized, still chuckling as he shoveled a bit of food into his own mouth. He involuntarily grimaced himself, that porridge having easily been the worst thing he had ever tasted. “That is horrible!” he sputtered.

 

Calista laughed and Cullen couldn't help but be charmed by her. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, her laugh. And in that moment, Cullen realized that he was completely smitten by this woman. He did not care that she was a Mage, an Elf, that there was a huge language barrier between them. He felt compelled to her. As long as there was breath in lungs, he would do whatever it took to keep her safe. The thought was a little unsettling, how easily he had felt connected to her.

 

“So,” Cullen said, his expression sobering. “More questions?”

 

Calista cleared her throat and nodded as she lifted another spoonful of food to her mouth.

 

“Are you from an Alienage?”

 

She shook her head and wrinkled her nose in disgust.

 

“By that expression, I take it you are Dalish, then?”

 

Her reply was a slight nod.

 

Cullen searched her face. “Then where is your vallaslin?”

 

Calista dropped the wooden spoon into her bowl and sat it on the floor next to her bent knee, eyes shooting up to his. Her brow furrowed as she lifted her hands to her face, fingertips gliding over her skin as if she was trying to feel for something that was not there. She threw a panicked look his way.

 

Cullen placed his spoon in his bowl and set if off to the side. He reached forward and wrapped his hands around her wrists, pulling her hands away from her face. “Calista,” he whispered softly and reached out to her, palming her cheek and forcing her to look at him. “It's not there.”

 

Her expression waned, her eyes pleading with his, as if begging for answers he did not quite know if he had.

 

“Do you have any idea as to where you are... where you've been?” Cullen asked slowly, attempting to gauge the severity of her situation.

 

She shook her head, her eyes never leaving his. Calista visibly blinked back tears, the condensation getting caught in her thick eyelashes.

 

“Do you know what year it is?” he asked softly, his eyes never leaving hers.

 

A stray tear broke free and streamed down her cheek. “Ar tel' eolasa.”

 

He wiped that stray tear away with the pad of his thumb. “You do not know,” he translated for her.

 

Her reply was a sad shake of her head.

 

“The year is 9:47 Dragon. You are in a small town in Ferelden called South Reach.”

 

Those sad blue eyes became clouded and Cullen could see more tears threaten to spill down her cheeks. He raised up on his knees and leaned towards her. Cullen placed a soft kiss to her forehead and he pulled her into his embrace. He could feel her shoulders shaking, heard her soft sob, and felt his heart break for her. There was not even the smallest part of him that could imagine what she had gone through... what she must be going through now. But what he did know was that this sad and bewildered little creature crying in his arms was the answer to so many questions. And there was only one person he knew that could help her unlock the door to her memories... Maerel Lavellan.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Cullen lay on his back, arm bent behind his head, eyes staring at the ceiling. The waning fire played shadows across the room and he couldn't help but be mesmerized by the dancing lights above him. He was lost in thought, the night having given way to more unanswered questions, the woman sleeping soundly in the bed across from his becoming more of a mystery as the evening had unfolded.

 

It had taken several moments for her to regain her composure, and once she had, Calista had pulled away from Cullen as if she had been burned. Her guard had gone up and she refused to answer any more of his questions. They had eaten the rest of their dinner in awkward silence, Cullen watching her carefully out of the corner of his eye and Calista cautiously refusing to meet his gaze.

 

He had encouraged her to go to bed while he cleaned up after dinner. Deep circles had embedded themselves beneath her eyes and Cullen could see she was clearly exhausted. It had taken a mere fraction of a second for her to drift off to sleep from the moment she closed her eyes and Cullen had quietly stacked the dirty pot, bowls, and utensils off to the side to contend with in the morning.

 

It had been a long day for him as well and so he had not hesitated to climb in the bed parallel to hers with the hope of catching some sleep before he had to face tomorrow, and all of what that entailed. The storm continued to rage outside of the cabin, the wind still howling against the windows as the heavy raindrops pelted the roof. As tired as he was, his eyes would not close. Swirling thoughts of the day's events kept him awake. But then again, Cullen had not slept well since he had stopped taking Lyrium. It had been countless years since he had felt thoroughly rested. The feeling was something he had become used to.

 

Cullen was realizing that sleep would inevitably allude him until he had come up with a plan for tomorrow. Calista was going to prove to be a challenge. The only reason he had originally missed the fact that she was an Elf was because he was so caught up in everything else that had been going on around him. But there was no mistaking her Elfiness now that he was aware of it. If her ears were not a dead give away, then the unique shape of her eyes, the dainty bridge of her nose... the fact that she only spoke Elvhen... all hard to miss. The world was no longer safe for her. All it would have taken was the wrong person to know she existed and there would be trouble.

 

The only thing Cullen was certain of was that he needed to somehow get her to Maerel. Contacting the former Inquisitor would be easy. Cullen was in possession of one of three communication crystals, the other two belonging to Maerel and the infamous Tevinter Mage, Dorian Pavus. The three men had become decent friends while serving the Inquisition and when they had parted ways, Dorian had gifted he and Maerel with the communication crystals so that they could all three stay in touch. He had only used it twice; once to let his friends know he had married Angeline and once to tell them his wife had died.

 

If he could reach out to both Maerel and Dorian, maybe they could come up with a safe place to meet up. Cullen knew that his friends would be able to help him figure out the mystery of the Mage Elf sleeping next to him. And if not figure her out, at least help him keep her safe.

 

Bringing Calista back to the Rutherford homestead was completely out of the question. Sure, he trusted his siblings to keep quiet, but there were the stable hands that were on the property helping out with the herd that could see her, tell the wrong person, and put not only Calista, but Cullen's entire family at risk. That was a chance he would not take.

 

So then what was he supposed to do? Keeping her here at the hunting cabin until he could get in touch with Maerel and Dorian and come up with a plan would be the safest way to go. He would, of course, have to stay with her. There was no doubt in his mind that Calista could defend herself but... He would not just leave her here alone to twiddle her thumbs until he came back for her.

 

Cullen would need to leave her alone long enough to set out on foot tomorrow morning, head back to the homestead, talk to Mia and Branson to let them know what was going on, and then pack some things to get them by until they could set out. The one thing Cullen was sure of above anything else was that he and Calista could not stay in South Reach. Keeping her there, hidden from the world, powerless to figure out what had happened to her would have been unfair. She needed answers and Cullen would do anything to get them for her.

 

So, he had a plan. It wasn't the best plan, but a plan all the same. With that settled, Cullen rolled over on his side, facing the wall and away from Calista, and after punching the pillow under his head to try to get comfortable, closed his eyes with the hope that sleep would take him.

 

Just as a calmness washed over him, his breathing had become even, and with his mind finally unwinding, Cullen felt himself start to fall asleep. A soft whimper carried through the silence and his eyes opened, his ears perked up. Her soft voice mumbled incoherently.

 

Cullen turned to face her. Calista slept restlessly, her legs kicking at the covers and causing the brown blanket to slide dangerously close to inappropriately exposing her torso to Cullen's eyes. He situated himself to a seated position on the edge of his bed and as he reached out to adjust the covers up over her, to try to preserve a modicum of modesty, Calista sat straight up in bed, the blanket falling to her waist as she lifted her arms to hug herself, her hands wrapping around her upper arms as she rocked back and forth and muttered, “Ma dy nuis sul ahn ma ema maslahnem.”

 

Very slowly and carefully, Cullen stood and walked over to where she sat in the middle of her bed, still with her arms wrapped firmly around her torso, rocking herself back and forth. He placed his hand on the bare skin of her shoulder blade and whispered, “Calista, it's Cullen.”

 

Her rocking slowed down, her haunted expression became clear as she turned her face to his. He could see her eyes glimmer in the light of the reflecting fire. There were no tears, only a trace of confusion. “Cullen...” she whispered, the sound of his name escaping her lips in her lilting accent for the first time ever sounding like music to his ears.

 

He offered her a reassuring smile as he stepped away from her for a brief moment to reach for the blanket he had left draped across his bed. Cullen wrapped it around her shoulders and sat back down on the bed next to her. “Are you alright?”

 

Her eyes searched for the words as they had earlier in the night. “I...” She swallowed, those words nearly on the tip of her tongue. “I...” Calista managed before she shook her head and growled in frustration. “Ir abelas.”

 

“There is no need to apologize,” Cullen quickly reassured her.

 

Her eyes snapped up to his, a shocked expression firmly in place.

 

“A friend of mine is Dalish. I know very little, but...” he shrugged. “I know a little Elvhen.”

 

Calista nodded her understanding and fisted the edge of the blanket in her tiny hands, pulling it tighter around her shoulders.

 

Cullen cleared his throat nervously. “Bad dream?”

 

Again she nodded, releasing her death grip on the blanket long enough for one hand to reach up and brush long slender fingers through her disheveled hair, pushing wayward strands out of her face.

 

“I'm sorry. I've had my share of bad dreams. You never get used to them,” Cullen offered, a pale attempt at encouragement, he knew. His dreams had gotten better over the years. But still... there were some nights, even after all of this time, that the Lyrium still sang to him. And when it did, those nights the dreams seemed all too real. Those nights... he would wake up screaming in a cold sweat. He had had more of those nights since Angeline's passing. Luckily, his family had either become used to it or had enough sense to not ask about it. Either way, he could sympathize with the young Elvhen Mage.

 

Cullen stood up and walked over to the fire, grabbing his breeches and throwing them on, before reaching for his shirt, his hands feeling across the fabric to make sure the linen was dry. He sauntered back over to Calista and lifted the shirt out to her. “Here. Put this on.”

 

She opened her mouth to protest but Cullen gave her a stern look, causing her to quickly snap her mouth closed.

 

“Your clothes are shot. Luckily, I have sisters. One of them should have something to fit you.”

 

“Ma serannas,” Calista said softly and stared up at him expectantly.

 

Cullen met her gaze, his eyes taking in the dimensions of her face, the way the dying fire cast shadows across her soft features. The look of horror she wore when she had first awoken from her nightmare had faded, leaving in its wake the sweet beauty of a woman that had just come out of sleep. Her long raven-colored hair fell in a disheveled disarray all around her. Cullen found it difficult to look away from her, so inexplicably drawn to this little Elf, it hurt to breathe.

 

“Cullen,” Calista chastised teasingly, that adorable little half-smile on her face, as she lifted one finger in front of her and made a swirling motion, indicating for him to turn around.

 

He cleared his throat and lifted his hand to the back of his head, rubbing the nape of his neck with his fingers as was his nervous habit. “Sorry,” he replied sheepishly as he turned around and stared into the embers of the fire. Cullen could hear the rustling of the covers behind him, the decrepit mattress creak with her movements. The room grew silent and still and as was becoming the usual when she was near, Cullen's senses sparked to life and he caught her from the corner of his eye as she came to stand next to him. He turned his head to look at her and felt like he had been punched in the gut, and nearly involuntarily grunted as his eyes roamed the length of her, wearing nothing but his over-sized tunic. Cullen swallowed hard, fought back the urge to reach for her and devour her mouth with his own. This physical reaction he had to the Elvhen beauty standing next to him was getting out of hand. He felt like a teenage Chantry boy who had never had the pleasure of a woman's naked body writhing beneath him. “Better?” he asked in a choked voice, dropping his hand from the back of his neck.

 

“Vin,” Calista answered in her soft voice, her eyes never leaving Cullen's. She searched his face, her gaze intense and concentrated.

 

Cullen lifted one brow inquisitively. “What?”

 

“Ma serannas.”

 

“Don't thank me yet, Calista.” He spared her a sideways look before turning his back to her and shoving his hands through the tangled waves of his blonde hair. “There's something I must tell you,” he all but groaned, dreading the conversation they were about to have. But it was necessary. Calista needed to know what was going on.

 

“Cullen?”

 

He turned to face her, to look her in the eye when he told her what had happened. She deserved that much. “I do not know anything about you. Where you came from, or where you've been. But I get the impression that you may not know either. Am I correct?”

 

She nodded slowly, her eyes searching his face.

 

“What happened to you? Did you just wake up? Appear out of thin air? What?”

 

“Ar tel' eolasa.”

 

“You do not know,” Cullen translated for her, garnering him a curt nod from Calista. “Unfortunately, I don't have the answer for you either. All I can tell you is that you aren't supposed to be here.”

 

“Ahn?”

 

Cullen took a step closer, placing his hands on her upper arms, forcing her to hold his gaze. “Elves all across Thedas have disappeared. It started roughly three years ago. No one knows how or why, or even where they all went. But there are quite literally a small handful of your race left in all of Thedas. Because of this, Thedosians all across the world fear your kind because seeing the Elvhen reappear after all of this time can mean one thing and one thing only... Life as we know it may be about to change, and not for the better.” Calista tried to pull away from him but he tightened his grip on her arms, holding her in place. “A man that I once knew, that I trusted, could be responsible for the disappearance of your kind.” Cullen lifted one hand to her face, cupping her cheek in his palm in an attempt to soothe her. “Do you have no memories at all?”

 

She shook her head, refusing to meet his stare.

 

“Or is it that you just have no recent memories?” Cullen sighed, finally releasing his hold on her and turning his back on her once again.

 

“Vin,” Calista said softly.

 

Slowly, he turned to face her again. “I have some friends that might be able to help you retrieve the memories that you have lost. They are good people, men that I would trust with my life. Would you be willing to let them try?”

 

Calista lifted one shoulder and shrugged noncommittally.

 

“Those men in the woods... Do you know why they were trying to hurt you?”

 

Her reply was a slow shake of her head.

 

“Me either. But I have a pretty good idea it had something to do with you being who you are. Many more would do the same if they knew about you. It doesn't make it right, nor fair. But this is the reality that we live in, the one you have awakened to. I can keep you safe for now. But until we figure all of this out, figure _you_ out, you will continue to be in danger. Do you understand?”

 

“Ar eolasa,” Calista conceded, nodding her head.

 

Cullen offered her a small smile. “We should try to get some sleep. You have to be exhausted. Are you going to be alright?”

 

“Vin,” she replied, covering a yawn with the back of her hand.

 

Cullen lifted his hand out to her. “Come. Let's go back to bed. I'll even tuck you in.”

 

“I dirth em a era,” Calista chuckled as she placed her tiny hand in his.

 

“You're teasing me, aren't you?” Cullen asked playfully, feeling himself relax a little.

 

“Vin.”

 

Cullen tugged her towards the bed and waited until she had climbed back onto the mattress before arranging one of the brown blankets over her scantily clad body. He tucked the cotton under her chin, grinning as he knelt down next to the bed so that they were face to face. “I'm glad I can amuse you,” he added playfully, drawing another soft chuckle from her. His expression sobered as he stared into her bewitching eyes. “Try to get some sleep. If you need anything, I'm right over there.” He gestured with his hand to the other bed. “Just come and wake me.”

 

Calista nodded, another yawn escaping her. Cullen lifted his hand to her face, brushing her soft hair gently away from her cheek. One side of his mouth tilted up in a thoughtful grin as he reached for the other blanket and tugged it towards himself. Holding it up for her to see, Cullen whispered, “I'm taking this back.”

 

She nodded and closed her eyes, her breathing becoming steady as she began to drift off to the Fade.

 

He padded barefoot across the floor and laid back down on his own bed. It was not long before Cullen felt himself relax even further and drifted off to sleep himself, the rain and wind still roaring outside, the fire dying slowly to embers, and the sound of the even breathing coming from the little Elf asleep in the bed next to him all lulling him into a deep somber.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Ma dy nuis sul ahn ma ema maslahnem.”-- You shall burn for what you have created.
> 
> “I dirth em a era.” -- And tell me a story.


	4. Chapter 4

Cullen awoke to the sound of birds chirping outside of the cabin, a good sign that the storm had passed. He opened his eyes and slowly lifted his head to catch a glimpse of the sunlight arcing through the window and playing shadows across the wall. Dropping his head back to his pillow and throwing his forearm over his eyes, Cullen groaned inwardly. He felt like he had been run over by a herd of druffalo, between the shoddy mattress he had slept on, the short amount of sleep he had gotten, and the fact that the small battle he had participated in yesterday had sent unused muscles screaming. He honestly felt like the oldest thirty-six year old man in existence.

 

It wasn't like he had allowed himself to get out of shape over the last three years. He still practiced with his sword every day, so there was that. Added to the manual labor that required attention on a daily basis around the Rutherford farmhouse he and his siblings called home, the stables, the land, the horses... Cullen kept busy. But it had been years since he had fought like he had yesterday, and his body was feeling battle-worn.

 

The mattress next to his creaked and Cullen dropped his arm from over his eyes and turned on his side to face Calista. Those magnificent blue eyes were wide and staring openly at him, her hands clasped together and tucked under her cheek. He had dreamed of those eyes all night... among other things. Her beautiful face had plagued his every sleeping thought and now, even in his waking hours, he couldn't help but be fascinated by her.

 

Cullen offered her a small smile. “Good morning.”

 

“On dhea,” she replied in a soft and sleepy voice.

 

“Is that good morning in Elvhen?” he asked as he propped his arm up beneath his head and rested his cheek against the palm of his hand.

 

Calista nodded, throwing an appreciative smile his way.

 

“I'm getting pretty good at this, huh,” Cullen laughed, pulling a chuckle out of her. “Did you sleep well?”

 

“Vin.”

 

“Good. I'm glad.”

 

“Ahn o ma?” Calista asked, gesturing towards him.

 

“Did I?” Cullen clarified, garnering a nod of yes from her. “Not really. But I never really do.” He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “It's of no consequence. As long as you got some sleep, that is all that matters.”

 

Suddenly, Cullen heard a noise, almost like the sound of horse hooves, outside. His eyes held Calista's gaze as he lifted one finger to his mouth, gesturing for her to keep quiet. “Stay here,” he whispered.

 

She nodded slowly and watched him as Cullen clambered off of the mattress, reached into the drawer of the bedside table nestled between their two beds, pulled out the dagger he had placed there last night before going to sleep, and tiptoed over to the door of the cabin.

 

He glanced over his shoulder briefly at Calista, who, much to his chagrin, had gotten out of bed herself and was now padding across the floor, hot on his trail. Cullen should have been irritated with her for not listening and staying put. Instead, he could only find himself thinking how adorable she looked in only his tunic. He had to mentally shake himself from staring at those perfectly long and lean legs of hers, visible from her mid-thigh down. His eyes met hers again, his lip quirked into a half-smile. “What do you think you're doing?”

 

Calista threw a smug smirk his way as she lifted one hand out in front of her and snapped her fingers, creating a fantastic show of electricity flowing from fingertip to fingertip. She lifted her eyebrows in challenge, dragging another soft chuckle from Cullen.

 

“Now you're just showing off,” he smarted back to her, elliciting a beautiful smile from those perfectly plump lips of hers. “Alright. On the count of three, I'm going to open the door. One, two, three...”

 

Cullen threw open the door, dagger raised, ready to defend the Mage Elf standing at his back. Just as quickly, he sheathed his knife and turned to Calista, placing his hand over hers in a soothing gesture. “It's alright,” Cullen said. “It's my family.”

 

Calista nodded and extinguished the arcing beams of electricity.

 

Cullen stepped out of the door to greet his brother Branson, riding astride that majestic black stallion of his, and his older sister, Mia, atop her pale white mare. Mia wasted no time dismounting and running to Cullen's side, her light blonde hair blowing in waves behind her. She threw her arms around his waist, buried her face into his chest, and held on tight.

 

“Cullen Stanton Rutherford,” Mia chastised as she stepped back and glared up at him. She may have been petite, standing only a little taller than Calista who had disappeared back inside of the cabin, but Mia was mighty. “You scared the living daylight out of us.”

 

“I'm sorry,” he offered lightly, pleading eyes lifting to Branson's face as he dismounted and came to join them.

 

Mia swatted Cullen in the arm. “You're sorry?” she asked incredulously. “I spent all night pacing, panicking, thinking the very worst things had happened to you and you're sorry...”

 

“Mia, Cullen did exactly what he was supposed to do. You can't be mad at him for that,” Branson chirped in, _finally._

 

“Oh, but I can!”

 

Branson chuckled and shrugged, “I tried.”

 

Cullen laughed as well and shook his head. “It's alright. Let her get it out of her system and then we can just get on with it.”

 

“What happened to you?” Branson asked. “Your horse came back with an empty saddle and...”

 

“That horse is a menace. She's had it out for me from day one,” Cullen explained. “The damn thing got spooked by some lightening. Before I knew what was happening, she threw me and ran off.”

 

“Cullen!” Mia's voice came from inside of the cabin. “Care to explain why there is a half-naked Elf in your bed.”

 

“Maker's Breath!” Cullen groaned and covered his face with his hand. He hadn't noticed Mia disappear from behind him. He turned on one foot to go inside.

 

“Wait! You have a half-naked Elf in your bed,” Branson mumbled as he followed Cullen into the cabin. “Remind me to get stranded in the woods more often.”

 

“Branson!” Cullen chastised. “Really!”

 

The scene Cullen stumbled into would have been amusing if under different circumstances. Calista was huddled on the bed Cullen had been sleeping in, blanket pulled up to her chin, bright blue eyes widened in what looked like fear. Mia did have a habit of striking fear into most, Cullen thought to himself with an inward chuckle. His eldest sibling stood short and mighty, hands on her hips as she glared at Calista, who continued to cower in the corner with every step Mia took closer. And Branson stood behind Cullen, hand covering the smirk on his face. Cullen could almost hear his brother chuckling and wanted to turn and punch him one good time in the mouth, just to wipe the smirk off of his face.

 

Cullen took a step forward, placed his arm in front of Mia, and dragged her back and behind him. He turned quickly to face his siblings, his back to Calista who by now was practically hiding beneath the blanket, probably wishing she could disappear.

 

“Alright. I realize this looks a lot worse than it really is. If you'll give me a moment to explain...”

 

“Oh believe me, Cullen,” Mia said with a sneer, “you better start explaining right now. Because if I stayed up all night worrying about you while you were out here, dallying with some...”

 

Cullen put his hand up before Mia could say another word. “Enough!” he growled sternly. “I will not have you insult her.”

 

Mia opened her mouth to speak, but Cullen took a step closer to her and glared, causing her to snap her mouth shut and back down.

 

Cullen threw another warning glare in Mia's direction before walking over to the bed where Calista sat, blanket pulled up to her nose, only those wide blue eyes peeking out over the brown fabric. Cullen offered his hand to her, only causing her to shrink back further. He lifted his hand a little bit higher, smiling encouragingly. Hesitantly, Calista lowered the blanket, accepted his out-stretched hand and allowed Cullen to gently pull her from the bed to his side. He drew her up next to him as he turned to his siblings, holding her hand tightly in his own.

 

“This is Calista,” he explained. “After that ridiculous horse dismounted me, Calista saved my life from a hungry black wolf in the woods that meant to make me its dinner. Unfortunately, that hungry wolf was the least of our problems. Two men jumped us. It looked like they meant to kill her. Once they were... _disposed_ of... we both came here for the night to get out of the rain. And the reason she is wearing my shirt and only my shirt is because her clothes were not only soaked, but they are ripped beyond repair. So... as you can see, nothing shameless happened here last night. And I'm offended that you would think such a thing of me.”

 

Mia clasped her hands in front of her and smiled apologetically. “Cullen, I... I'm sorry.”

 

Cullen's eyes glared at Branson who was still snickering behind his hand. “You too.”

 

“Me too what?” Branson asked defensively.

 

“Oh for Maker's sake! Don't pretend you weren't thinking the same thing. Apologize.”

 

“Fine,” Branson said stubbornly. “I'm sorry.”

 

“Very well. Now... here comes the fun part. As Mia had so astutely mentioned earlier, my new friend here is an Elf. And that is a peculiar thing because...”

 

“All of the Elves have disappeared,” Branson finished for him.

 

“That's right.” Cullen blew out a slow breath and gave Calista another encouraging smile. Her small hand still rested within his and he gave it a small little squeeze as well. “She has no idea what has been happening. She didn't even know what year it was. And to complicate matters further, she is only capable of speaking Elvhen.”

 

“If she can only speak Elvhen,” Mia inquired, “then how is it you know she has no idea what's been going on?”

 

“Because she understands everything I say to her. She just cannot speak our language.”

 

Mia's curious hazel eyes surveyed Calista silently. “Have you always only spoken Elvhen?”

 

Cullen lifted one brow and turned his attention to Calista. That was a good question, one he never thought to ask.

 

She shook her head. Lifting one small finger, Calista pointed at herself and gave Cullen one of her little half-smiles. “Dalish.”

 

“Oh for fuck's sake!” Cullen practically slapped himself in the forehead. “I didn't even... How is it that you can only speak Elvhen now?”

 

“Ar tel'...”

 

“Eolasa,” Cullen finished for her. “You don't know.”

 

“I'm no expert on this or anything,” Branson chirped in. “But isn't it very dangerous for her to be here... not just in South Reach but Ferelden?”

 

“It's dangerous for her to be in Thedas period. Empress Celene made a point once all of this started three years ago to have every Elf in Thedas register with the Council. They have a list, a rather small list, of every Elf that remains in Thedas now. The Council keeps track of every name on that list. If your name is not on it, or your whereabouts over the last three years cannot be accounted for, then you are considered an enemy of not only Orlais but all of Thedas, a crime punishable by detainment and possibly even death.”

 

“So, what are we going to do, Cullen?” Mia asked.

 

“ _We_ are going to do nothing. _I_ am going to reach out to Maerel and Dorian to see if they can help her.”

 

“And in the meantime?” Mia prompted, her expression bathed in concern.

 

“I will keep her safe... here.”

 

“Cullen, you can't expect her to stay here at this cabin,” Mia said sternly. “It's barely fit for you and Branson to stay here when you go hunting. But for her...”

 

Cullen shook his head and smiled at his eldest sister. Five minutes ago she was ready to tear Calista limb from limb. And now, she was advocating for her. How he loved his Mia. “What would you have me do then, dear sister?” Cullen asked with a hint of snark.

 

“Bring her back to the house,” Mia shrugged. “She can stay there until you figure out a plan.”

 

“Mia,” Cullen chortled. “That is a terrible plan.”

 

She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him, openly offended. “How is that a terrible plan?”

 

“Someone might see her,” Branson offered, finally joining the conversation again.

 

Cullen spared his baby brother an amused look. Branson was a little late to the game today. And yet, Mia was usually the one with the level head and Branson tended to be the one with half-crazy ideas. The tide had seemed to turn this day and Cullen couldn't help but spare a glance down at Calista who was watching them all go back and forth, blue eyes still wide as she followed the conversation... and yet that entertained smirk still on her face.

 

“Not if we bring her there at night when no one will see her and keep her hidden.”

 

“Yes... that will work perfectly,” Branson threw his hands up. “All it would take is for my son to put eyes on her once and he will tell anyone that will listen about Uncle Cullen's Elf.”

 

He felt Calista tense up next to him and quickly yank her hand out of his grasp. “First of all,” Cullen interjected quickly, “she is not _my_ Elf. And secondly... Branson is right. Ethan would never be able to keep this kind of secret.”

 

The three siblings watched each other in silence and Cullen knew that Mia and Branson were wracking their brain for a better plan. But unfortunately, he had spent half of the night trying to come up with something else, anything else. This was the only way.

 

“Fine,” Mia conceded. “But then, let me bring her some things from the house to make her a bit more comfortable.” She turned her attention to Calista. “If that is alright with you.”

 

“Ma serranas,” Calista said softly with a gentle bow of her head.

 

Mia turned to Cullen, one brow lifted inquisitively.

 

“It means thank you,” Cullen clarified, garnering a sweet smile from Calista. He glanced up in time to catch the suspiciously smug expression on Mia's face and knew exactly what that look meant.

 

Cullen cleared his throat and glanced away from his very omniscient sister. He didn't need Mia fawning all over him at what he assumed to be her sudden realization that Cullen was quite openly fond Calista.

 

“What else do you need, Cullen?” Branson asked.

 

Cullen turned to his brother and gave him a grateful nod; grateful for the diversion from Mia's too wise for her own good stare and grateful of if Branson could bring him everything he needed then he would not need to leave Calista alone in this cabin for even a second. “I will make you a list.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

Cullen sat next to the campfire he had coaxed to life, with Branson to his right. The two men watched the meat roast over the open fire. The only sound filling the silence between them was the crackling of the burning wood and flame. Out of the corner of his eye, Cullen could see his brother every so often open his mouth to speak. As if Branson had thought better of what he had planned to say, he would just as quickly snap it shut. He had never seen his brother be this quiet for so long. It was a little unsettling.

Cullen reached up and gently massaged the nape of his neck as he stared blankly into the fire, watching the fennec meat he had wrangled up for dinner cook slowly on its skewer. He and Calista had sort of kept their distance from one another throughout the morning, not on purpose of course. Cullen had busied himself with little tasks here and there such as chopping wood and stacking it inside in case another storm blew in this evening. He had made a point to stick close enough to the cabin while he had taken one of the bows and some arrows from a storage chest and ventured off to hunt some food down for dinner. He had even had time to skin the fennec and cut the meat down so he could cook it easier.

While Cullen had been desperately looking for things to keep him busy all day, Calista had slept the majority of the day away. He had checked on her several times throughout, only to find her curled into a ball on the bed, breathing soft and steady, eyes fluttering as she dreamed. He had left her be, figuring she had most likely needed the sleep.

Mia and Branson had returned with all of the supplies Cullen had requested right after noonday. It had been fortuitous that his siblings had shown up when they had because Cullen had found he was running out of things to do for the moment to keep him occupied. He wasn’t used to sitting idle and as he sat by the blazing fire, he wondered to himself what he was going to do with the upcoming days while he waited to hear back from Maerel and Dorian.

They had returned with all of the supplies he had asked for and then some. Before Cullen could get a word in edgewise with his darling eldest sister, she had gathered Calista and had shuffled her towards the woods, a bag of secret goodies slung over her shoulder. Cullen had felt like an over-protective lunatic, yelling after Mia to make sure she had her dagger in her boot as he had taught her and not to go too far. His eldest sister had basically just waved him off as if he were a nuisance she couldn't have been bothered with as she had linked arms with her new best Elvhen friend and disappeared into the thicket and brush of the forest.

He was grateful for his sister… sweet, loving, pain in his ass, Mia. The woman never ceased to amaze him. She had taken Calista under her wing just like the mother hen that she was, clucking and fussing over the quietly timid little Elf. Poor Calista had almost looked a bit frightened when Mia had first returned, a little unsure of how to take the eldest Rutherford. Cullen found it quite hilarious and a little endearing to say the least.

Once Mia and Calista had disappeared into the forest, Cullen had taken the crystal out of the bag Branson had given him almost immediately and ventured from his brother for a short time. Finding a nice cool spot on the mossy grass beneath a weeping willow tree, Cullen had taken a seat and quickly composed his message to his two friends. It had been short and sweet. He had simply said that he had found something that might be of interest and needed their help. He had told them that it might be unsafe getting this special thing of interest to them and for them to please put their heads together to devise a plan of meeting up sometime in the very near future. And from that point all he could do was wait.

“Where do you think those two went off to?” Branson asked, finally breaking the silence.

Cullen glanced up at his brother, dropping his hand from the back of his neck. “I’m not sure. Knowing Mia, if I had to bet on it I’d say they probably went to get Calista cleaned up. Mia was toting around a big bag of who knows what.”

Branson shrugged, chuckling softly. “I’d wager you are correct.”

“So where's Rosalie?”

Branson picked a stray twig from the ground and tossed it carelessly into the fire. “She stayed behind to watch Ethan.”

“Did you and Mia tell her what's going on?”

Branson nodded. “Had to. She's nosier than Mia.”

Cullen chuckled. It was true. His sisters were a meddlesome duo.

The two men grew silent again and Cullen focused his eyes back onto the fire while Branson stood up, walked with long strides over to his sack he always carried with him. He dug out his trusty canteen and walked back over to the campfire, taking his seat beside of Cullen again. He twisted the cap off, lifted it to his lips, tilted it back, and took a long swig before offering it to Cullen.

Cullen accepted the flask and took a deep pull from it himself, not realizing that the contents were a strong Chasind Sack Mead and not water. He coughed, causing Branson to laugh as he lifted a hand and clapped Cullen on the back.

“You alright there Cullen,” Branson chuckled, dropping his hand from Cullen’s back and lifting it to his hair so that he could shove a wayward lock of blonde out of his eyes.

Cullen pressed against his chest with his fist, the cool liquid still burning its way down to his gut. “Yeah,” he sputtered. “It kind of just hits you right there, doesn’t it?”

Branson laughed again and threw a crooked smile Cullen’s way. “You get used to it after a while.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Branson sobered, his smile fading and a serious expression taking its place. “So...” he said slowly. “Calista...”

Cullen glanced at his brother sideways, patiently waiting to see if Branson was going to add anything or just leave it open for Cullen to fill in the blanks. When Branson remained silent, his probing stare boring a hole through Cullen, he finally shook his head and groaned. “Just say it, Branson.”

“She's quite fetching, wouldn't you say?” Branson threw a little half-smirk his way before taking another long pull from his canteen.

“She is.” Cullen wouldn't dare deny she was pretty... Who was he kidding? She was beautiful. And each time he had checked on her to find her sleeping, he had taken just a little extra time to study her before leaving the cabin. Still, Cullen knew better than to be fooled by a pretty face. With Calista, there was just something about her. He wanted to get to know her, to learn her story. Yet as long as there was this language barrier between the two of them, communication was a little scarce.

“So, are you planning on...”

“I'm going to stop you right there,” Cullen interjected quickly. “That girl has been through... who knows what all she's been through. The last thing she needs is me or you for that matter, trying to bed her.”

Branson's mouth hung open, his eyes narrowing. “I am shocked! Is that really what you thought I was going to ask?”

Cullen glared at him. “Isn't it?”

“No. I was going to ask if you are planning on taking her to Maerel in Orlais? But I certainly know where your head is at, dear brother.”

“Don't,” Cullen warned.

“I mean, you think I would seriously try to hit on your Elf.”

“She's not my Elf,” he corrected, his voice tinged with irritation.

“Then can she be my Elf?” Branson teased with a bright smile as he swigged down a big gulp of mead and held the flask out to Cullen

Cullen shook his head and pointed one accusatory finger at his brother. “See. I knew you were up to no good... I do not know why I am even shocked by the things that come out of your mouth anymore... I...” Cullen paused, realizing that Branson was no longer listening to him but staring straight ahead at something that must have been much more interesting than Cullen. That Branson was no longer paying him any attention was damn irritating to say the least. “What, dare I ask, has your attention?”

Branson lifted one long finger and pointed straight ahead. Still grumbling to himself, Cullen turned away from his brother and looked in the direction he was pointing. Mia was making her way to them, Calista in tow. The girls had apparently gone down to the waterfall that lay just north of their cabin to get Calista cleaned up and... Maker's Breath! The woman cleaned up rather nicely. Her hair had been freshly washed so that it glistened and shined in the fading sunlight. Her long mane was braided loosely and hung over her left shoulder with fly-away wisps framing her face. She had tucked what looked to be a white lily behind her right ear. The thin gauzy white dress that she wore hung loosely from her lithe body, the neckline plunging dangerously low as one bare shoulder peaked out. Calista fidgeted under his and Branson's scrutiny, shifting back and forth on her still bare feet.

“Don't worry,” Mia sighed dramatically as she dragged Calista over to the fire and pulled the little Elf down to a seated position beside of her. “I brought her some practical clothes as well. There's a bag in the cabin full of small clothes, and breeches and tunics. Sadly, these were all left over from when Rosalie was a teenager and I fear if they are anything like this dress, they will swallow her whole. But I digress,” Mia smiled as she nudged Calista playfully with her elbow. “That's just jealousy talking. What I wouldn't give to look like this one without my clothes on.”

Cullen about choked at that comment, the last thing he needed to think about or imagine was what Calista looked like without her clothes on.

“I also brought her some soaps and such so that she can at least bathe, albeit in a freezing cold stream,” Mia prattled on, not realizing that both Cullen and Branson for that matter were staring at her, open mouthed, both probably unable to get the mental image if Calista bathing in the freezing cold waterfall out of their perverted little minds. Cullen felt dirty for where his thoughts were going but he couldn't help it... the woman was magnificently gorgeous and now that Mia had put the image in his head, he would most likely have very vivid dreams about it all night. Thanks Mia!

“So, I think it's time for Bran and I to head home before it starts to look suspicious. There's enough supplies here to last you for a few days.” Mia stood up quickly and started moving around, searching for something but never quite locating what it was she was looking for. “Oh and I took the liberty of stocking the cabinets in there with some bread and fruit spread, a few assorted fruits and vegetables... enough so that you should really only need to hunt for meat for dinner.” Mia continued to spin around, patting the pockets of her breeches, still desperately looking for something. “Oh and that reminds me.” As if suddenly satisfied that whatever she was looking for was lost forever, Mia just stopped searching and turned her full attention on Cullen. “Take Calista hunting with you. Apparently, she's quite the shot with a bow and arrow.”

“How do you...” Cullen sputtered, his head still spinning from the whirlwind that was his sister.

“She told me. We had a nice conversation while she was getting cleaned up. Don't get me wrong... I'm not proficient at Elvhen or anything. But you can find out a lot about a person by asking the right yes or no questions.” Mia turned her attention on to Branson. “Why are you still sitting there? Let's go before we lose daylight.”

Branson suddenly stood up and walked over to where their horses were tethered, throwing a perturbed smirk over his shoulder at Cullen.

Mia bent down to Cullen and placed a kiss on his cheek. “We'll be back in a few days to check on the two of you. Keep her safe, you hear?” Mia then leaned down and pulled Calista into a sisterly embrace, planting a loving kiss to her forehead. “Don't forget to have Cullen teach you how to play chess so that we can play together on my next visit.”

Cullen watched as Calista smiled up at his sister and nodded, placing her hand on Mia's forearm. “Sule sal 'melana, ma' falon.”

Mia released her and walked quickly to where Branson stood patiently waiting. They both mounted and Mia threw a quick wave over her shoulder as they departed.

Cullen turned to Calista and threw her a meek smile across the campfire. He cleared his throat, feeling awkward in the hovering silence. “Dinner should be ready soon,” he offered, desperately trying to fill the void with something, anything.

Calista smiled and nodded. Her eyes dancing with amusement.

“Uh... my family can be a bit much sometimes. I'm sorry.”

Calista simply lifted her hand in the air and waved off his comment, shrugging and grinning.

“You look nice,” he stammered awkwardly. “Not that you didn't look nice before. But... What I mean to say is...” Cullen stopped, inhaled a deep breath, and offered her a timid smile. “You look nice.”

“Ma serranas.”

“You're welcome.” He lifted his hand to the back of his neck again. Why was he feeling suddenly so nervous around her? Oh yeah… that was right. Because Mia had planted a mental image in his head that he now could not rid himself of. “So...” Cullen stammered, feeling so incredibly inept. “You are a hunter?” he asked for lack of anything better.

Her eyes lit up as she shook her head excitedly.

“For your clan?”

She lifted her hand flat in the air and sort of twisted it back and forth to indicate yes and no, her mouth quirking sideways.

“But you do want to go hunting with me?”

She nodded and smiled brightly.

“Did Mia bring you some shoes to wear?”

Calista crinkled her nose and shook her head, pointing one finger at her bare feet.

“But what happens if you step on something and get hurt.”

Calista sighed dramatically and shook her head again, pointing at her bare feet once more.

Cullen threw his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine. If you want to go traipsing through the woods in your bare feet, then far be it from me to stop you.”

Calista crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.

He couldn't help but chuckle. She was awfully damn cute. “You are rather sassy for someone who barely says a word. You know that, right?”

Calista's glare quickly gave way to a smirk, which gave way to a full blown smile, which gave way to a soft chuckle.

Cullen picked up a long stick and poked at the meat still braising over the fire. He let out a short sigh. “I wish we didn't have this language barrier between us. There's so much I want to know about you.”

Silence surrounded them. Cullen continued to stare into the flames of the fire, his mind a flurry of activity. It was true. He wanted to know everything about her. She was such a mystery to him in every single way. It no longer mattered that she could be the key to knowing what had happened to all of the Elves in Thedas. Cullen wanted to know the person she was.

“Me… too,” she replied very slowly and very carefully.

Cullen's amber eyes immediately flew to her light blue ones. “Did you... I mean... can you...”

She lifted her hand and pressed her thumb and first finger together.

“A little?”

Calista nodded.

“Do you think it's coming back?”

“Ar tel' eolasa.”

He held her gaze and it felt like his heart was going to skip out of his chest. The thought that they could possibly have an actual conversation and not some guessing game of words and charades…

Calista slowly stood from where she sat and walked over to the same side of the fire as Cullen. She took the seat that had been previously occupied by Branson and turned to face him. “Trying,” she said very carefully and offered him a small smile.

Cullen’s features softened as he returned her smile. “I know you’re trying.”

One of her small hands lifted to his face and with gentle fingertips, Calista traced over the scar on the right side of his lip. Her eyes met his again and lingered before trailing down to his lips. Cullen felt... well, there was no nice way to put it. He was turned the fuck on. If he really wanted to, it could have taken him all of but a second to reach out and clasp her waist in his large hands, pull her body flush against his and devour her mouth in a searing kiss. Oh and he wanted to. But he wouldn't; couldn't. Cullen feared that once he kissed her, it would not nearly be enough. He'd want to kiss her again and again. And when he was done kissing that pretty mouth of hers... Needless to say he could think of plenty of other places he would want to kiss her.

Calista continued to trace his scar with her fingertip, studying it with an intent stare. She lifted those ethereal blue eyes back to his and asked softly, “How?”

“How did I get this scar?”

She nodded.

“Well,” Cullen said softly, completely and utterly distracted with the way her finger continued to trace over his scar. “I used to be a soldier, of sorts, and I got that scar there in a battle in a city that I used to serve in. It was in the Free Marches, called Kirkwall. My Commander gave this to me right before she went completely mad and turned into a statue of red lyrium.” He shook his head and chuckled humorlessly. “Not one of Meredith's finer moments but... I'm sorry it's not a more exciting story.”

Calista dropped her hand from his face and leaned slightly away from him. She reached up to the collar of her dress and began pulling it down slightly, exposing the valley between her ample breast. At first, Cullen made to reach out and stop her until he realized what she was doing. Nestled there, between her bosom, was a white puckered scar a good two inches long. So... she wanted to compare scars. Cullen would play.

He reached forward, hoping he wasn't being too brazen, and traced his finger across the scar. Cullen could visibly see her shudder slightly from his touch and as much as he knew he shouldn’t, that he was playing a dangerous game here... He couldn't help but congratulate himself on drawing a reaction from her. “How did you get that one?” he asked as he dropped his hand from the soft skin between her breasts.

Calista made both hands into fists, placed them atop one another, and made a stabbing motion to her chest.

Cullen gasped. “Someone stabbed you in the chest?”

She nodded and smiled. “Ma' isa'ma'lin,” Calista answered with a soft chuckle.

“Your family? Brother, sister?”

Calista nodded and held up one finger.

“Brother?”

She nodded again.

“On purpose?”

Calista shook her head and smiled fondly. “We… playing.”

“One day, you'll have to tell me that story,” he laughed. “How old were you?”

She held up seven fingers.

“And him?”

She held up ten.

“Take a look at this one.” Cullen sat on his knees and lifted his tunic up to his rib cage. He pointed to a long faded scar that trailed across the left side of his muscled abdomen, barely visible now but still there. “Mia,” he said as he pointed out the scar to Calista. “We were young. I believe I might have been around ten and she was twelve. We were pretend sparring with wooden swords. I was beating her and the little brat got mad. Mia was a sore loser even then. She hit me in the ribs as hard as she could and sliced me open. Got me pretty good. It took weeks for it to heal.”

Calista put one finger up as she too sat up on her knees. She carefully hiked her dress up to expose her right thigh. Cullen leaned forward to admire the impressive scar she was pointing to before his eyes found hers again. “How did you get that one?”

She lifted both hands in the air and pretended to be shooting a bow and an arrow.

“You got shot with an arrow?” Cullen asked incredulously.

She nodded, her eyes wide.

“By who? Your brother again?”

She nodded again and laughed.

“He was a mean little shit, wasn't he?”

Calista rolled her eyes and smiled fondly, letting out a soft sigh. Her smile slowly faded and she lowered her head sadly.

Cullen didn't think, just reacted. He lifted one finger to her chin, forcing her head up, her eyes to meet his. “Please don't be sad. I'm sure he's out there somewhere. Maybe my friends can help you find him, your family.” She nodded solemnly. “Just please don't be sad. I know I'm not much, but you have me. I'm here for you, Calista.” So slowly, Cullen began to lean forward. He meant to kiss her. And though he knew it was a bad idea, he did not care. He wanted to... so, so much he wanted to. And just as his lips were about to touch hers, just as his eyes were closing and he was going in for the kiss... He stopped himself. Instead, he turned his head and placed his lips gently across her cheek like he would one of his sisters and smiled at her. A friendly, brotherly smile.

Calista’s expression wavered a bit as she placed her hand on his cheek and caressed the day's worth of stubble gracing his jawline and chin. And she said in a lovingly sweet voice, “Ma' falon.” And Cullen knew enough Elvhen from his friendship with Maerel to understand her words. My friend.

“Let's have some dinner, shall we?” he gritted between clenched teeth, letting the my friend thing settle over him like a ton of bricks. He should have just kissed her. To hell with the consequences, he should have just done it. Now... he was her friend. But what he really wanted was so much more than her friendship. What he really wanted was to get her out of that dress and lay her down, naked, next to the campfire, and make love to her all night long. He hadn't wanted someone like he wanted Calista in as long as he could remember. And now he was her friend. He was a stupid, stupid man...


	6. Chapter 6

A light wind rustled the trees, the sound of birds chirping in the distance the only sound for miles and miles. Cullen could feel the moisture beading on his forehead, the sweat running down his back and chest and causing his shirt to stick to his overheated skin. The soft breeze did little to cool him down from this hot and humid day. All he could do was lift his forearm to his temple and wipe the condensation on his skin away before it dripped down into his eyes.

He hunkered down in the brush and brambles of the forest, Calista hidden in the foliage next to him. Her brow was furrowed in concentration as she pulled the string of the bow back tight, the point of the arrow trained on the ram grazing nonchalantly on a small patch of grass. Cullen studied her posture, the way she held the bow, her intense stare as she narrowed in on the unknowing creature. She gracefully stood to her full height, legs slightly apart as she steadied herself, her eyes never losing sight of the ram.

With careful precision, she released the string of the bow, allowing the arrow to sail through the air and connect with its target. The arrow pierced the ram through its left flank, causing the animal to stiffen, stunned for a mere second before it fell to the ground. Calista did not hesitate as she unsheathed the dagger Cullen had given her from its holster on her belt and ran gracefully in her bare feet to the wounded animal, Cullen hot on her trail.

“Bel serrana sul min enansal,” she whispered softly as she drew her knife across the animal’s throat, ending its suffering.

Cullen watched her close her eyes and murmur a lyrical prayer to her gods, to Andruil who he knew to be the goddess of the hunt. Calista had been magnificent to watch as she had slowly stalked this animal throughout the woods, as she had hunted with voracity and skill, and as she had honored the soul of this creature who would serve as their meal this evening… She was artful in the hunt. It was something he had never considered before but to watch her… It took his breath away at how graceful the lithe little Elf was.

She looked up at him as she tilted the nearly disconnected head of the now dead ram back, allowing the blood to finish draining from the lifeless animal. Her smile enveloped her entire face as she continued to stare at him expectantly.

Cullen grinned. “Alright… You are an excellent hunter, I give you that.”

One brow lifted and Calista refused to look away, her gaze still expectant and eager.

“Oh fine,” Cullen sighed. “And you did it all in your bare feet. Happy?”

He thought it was impossible for that smile to get any brighter and yet, she shined more brilliantly than the blistering sun baring down on them. Calista nodded gratefully, seemingly pleased with his compliment, and released her hold on the ram, allowing the head to drop to the ground.

Cullen chuckled and shook his head, heaving the dead ram unto his shoulders. They walked side by side in silence while they made their way back through the forest. As they came closer to the clearing that would lead them back to the hunting cabin, Calista whistled softly and then skipped ahead of him, throwing a grin over her shoulder.

Cullen slowed his pace as he watched her dance before him, randomly picking a flower and lifting to her nose, her eyes closing as she inhaled the fragrant scent. Watching her, it was almost like everything was new and exciting, as if she was seeing the entire world for the first time. She studied her surroundings so intently, studied him so intently… it was like everything had a purpose to her, a meaning for existence. And she honored all life around her from the ground to the trees, from the trees to the sky; she honored him in the way she studied his face, studied his expressions when he spoke. Calista had even honored the life she had taken during the final killing of the ram now wrapped lifelessly around his shoulders. She was… magnificently full of wonder and amazement. He almost felt like a kid again around her, wanting to share and explore all of these new wonders with her.

They hadn’t really spoken much since he had almost kissed her last night, the words they had shared being a mere fraction of what they had been before that awkward moment. If Cullen could have gone back and changed things, he definitely would have. But what was done was done and all he could do moving forward was make sure that he kept his wall firmly up and kept Calista at an arm’s length away. She was dangerous to him for all sorts of reasons… reasons he did not have the time or energy to explore at the very moment.

After his very awkward attempt at _not_ kissing Calista, they had eaten their dinner in silence, sharing awkward stares before Cullen embarrassingly looked away. They had cleaned up the remnants of their meal in silence and had gone to bed in silence. She had fallen asleep easily. Cullen, on the other hand, had taken much longer to drift off to the Fade. His mind had still been going into overdrive, imagining and overthinking every single scenario of what was to come. He had even spent half the night doubting himself and his ability to see this through, to keep Calista safe until he could deliver her to Maerel and Dorian. And then what was he to do? Stick around? Walk away, knowing that he had left her in the very capable hands of his two dearest friends? Once he had delivered her, what exactly would his job be other than hanging around, being a nuisance to everyone concerned? The thought of leaving her behind, even if it was with Maerel and Dorian, had caused his stomach to pitch and his throat to fill raw. He barely knew her and yet, he didn’t think he had it in him to just walk away.

And then, in the midst of his internal strife, his silent musings about the past, present, and future, Calista had cried out in her sleep. As she had the night before, she murmured in Elvhen, thrashing around in the blankets as she had continued to mutter. Cullen had slid out of his bed slowly, carefully, and quietly padded across the wooden floor to her. He had lifted his hand to her silken tresses and caressed the darkened strands away from her face, leaned forward and whispered soothingly in her ear. It had been enough to calm her dreams, to turn her restless sleep into a soothing slumber. Once he had felt reassured that her nightmare had passed, he had padded back over to his own bed and climbed under the covers, finally able to find sleep himself.

Suddenly, ahead of him, Cullen heard her strangled cry and yanked himself out of his own head, his eyes shifting quickly to her silhouette, grasping her head with both hands and falling to the knees. He quickly shrugged the ram off of his shoulders, dropping it to the ground, and ran to her. He went down on his knees next to her and placed one hand on her shoulder. “Calista, what is it?”

“Ar tel’ eolasa,” was her pained reply.

She shut her eyes tight and grimaced, covering her ears with the palms of her hands and shaking her head slowly. Her body was trembling against Cullen’s touch as she cried out in pain again. Slowly, she stood on unsteady legs and grasped Cullen’s callused hand, threading their fingers together and pulling him to a stand. One hand remained on her temple, her eyes glancing wildly around. She began walking aimlessly through the woods, tugging Cullen along with her. He blindly followed, curiosity getting the better of him. He knew not where she was dragging him to but felt it was important to let her lead the way.

Calista’s blind wanderings had placed them at the opening of a cave, long hidden and impossible to find unless one was purposely looking for it. She started through the entrance and only paused when Cullen came to a stop, halting her in her steps. Calista turned to Cullen, confusion etched on her face.

“I’m sorry but we cannot continue. It may not be safe.”

“Cullen,” she begged, her eyes pleading. “Sathan!”

He blew out a frustrated breath. “Alright… fine… but stay behind me.”

She shook her head violently and reached for his hand again, tugging with all of her might. Now Cullen was certain that this woman could move mountains if she so inclined. Her determination was that strong. And Cullen was no mountain. But he wasn’t a small man either. And yet, she dug her heels in and yanked at his hand as if she thought she could single-handedly budge him. It was because of that determination that he allowed her to lead him forward and into the cave.

The blackened stone walls glistened from the moisture in the air, sparkled in fact from the condensation. He could not tell where the sound came from but could hear drops of water echo in the distance as it tumbled across stone and rock. The path ahead was dark with the exception of a faint glow in the distance. That was the direction she was moving towards, grasping his hand tighter as they meandered through the cave’s miniscule path.

As they came closer to the mysterious light, Cullen squinted his eyes in the darkness and nearly gasped as the object came into clearer view. He had not seen something quite like this since the Exalted Council at the Winter Palace. And that had done nothing but spell trouble for everyone. Standing tall and bright in the darkness was an intact Eluvian, the face of the mirror swirling and glowing in a supernatural pattern.

Calista dropped his hand and Cullen reached for her, attempted to pull her back to him but she had quickly stepped forward and away from his grasp. He watched her, incapable of movement, as she reached out with one tiny hand, lifted her index finger, and touched it to the Eluvian. A shower of sparks and light flew all around him, blinding him to everything except Calista’s silhouette. He could not make out her features, only her shape. Her finger still touched the Eluvian, her head bowed while it looked like she absorbed the strange magical power from the mystical mirror of her people.

Just as quickly as it had began, the light faded and the glass from the mirror began to shatter around them. Without hesitation, Cullen lunged forward and wrapped his arm around Calista’s waist. He tugged her close to his body and turned them just as the shards of glass flew all around them, using his body as a shield to protect her, his back taking the brunt of the shattering fragments. He felt the sharp splinters pierce his skin, the fabric of his shirt become soaked with his blood. Yet he did not relent in his resolve to protect Calista at any cost.

The raining shards of glass ceased and the room became quiet and still, shrouded in darkness. He could hear her heavy breathing as she continued to tremble against him. He felt her turn into his embrace so that her back was no longer to him. Her soft breath whispered across his cheek, their faces nearly inches apart.

“Cullen,” she said with bated breath. “I’m so sorry. I did not know… Are you alright?”

His heart caught in his throat, the pain he felt searing his back like a white hot flame ceased to be. For at that exact moment, the only thought in Cullen’s mind was… “Calista, I understand you.” He chuckled mirthfully. “Makers Breath!” he exclaimed heartily. “I can actually understand you.”

She snapped her fingers, sending a bouncing ball of light into the air. The immediate area around them became illuminated and Cullen suddenly realized just how close they were to one another, their lips barely an inch apart. “I can understand you,” he muttered softly, the mirthful glee he felt moments before dissolving into nothing but pure unadulterated attraction as their eyes held each others gaze.

“Well that’s a relief,” Calista murmured, her gaze flicking from his eyes, to his lips, and then back to his eyes. “I thought we’d be playing the question game indefinitely. You were getting rather good at it.”

Cullen cleared is throat nervously, hyperaware of the fact that he only had to lean a tad bit closer and their lips would be touching… only a little further in and he could capture her mouth in a kiss. “What just happened?”

“I’m not sure. And right now may not be the best time to figure it out. We need to get out of here. Are you injured?”

Cullen shrugged, the question quickly reminding him that he may or may not have shattered pieces of an Ancient Eluvian sticking out of his back. The question also reminded him of the searing pain associated with said possible shattered pieces of an Ancient Eluvian sticking out of his back. “I’m sure it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Calista threw a lighthearted grin his way. “Wow. Look at you being such a brave boy,” she chided playfully.

Cullen chuckled sardonically and in spite of the excruciating pain radiating across his skin, was rather enjoying this new playful banter they were engaged in. “I think I liked it better when you could only speak Elvhen,” he teased.

She laughed as she pulled herself out of his embrace and maneuvered in the small space, brushing her soft curves against the hardened planes of his body… completely unintentionally seductive in her movements. Leave it to Cullen to be in the worst possible situation, with shards of glass sticking out of his skin, the burning pain consuming him… and to be turned on. What the fuck was wrong with him?

“Cullen,” she said, a soft whistle through clenched teeth. “This looks bad.”

“How bad?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing I can’t handle,” she threw his own words back at him as she again maneuvered in the small, barely lit space so that she stood before him. “Do you trust me?”

He searched her eyes and without a moment of hesitation, Cullen sighed. “Do I have a choice?”

“There are always choices, ma’falon. However, by choosing to trust me, you will save yourself a lot of unnecessary pain.”

“That sounds bad.”

She lifted her hand to his hair, fingers stroking the dampened strands. Her eyes never left his as she leaned forward on her tiptoes, her mouth a breath away from his. “It doesn’t have to be,” she whispered, her lips gently meeting his.

Cullen fell completely still, allowing her soft lips to graze his in the lightest of kisses. It took him the briefest of moments to realize what was going on as her fingers continued to comb through his hair. He felt the electricity buzzing around him and as she deepened her kiss, as he closed his eyes and relaxed into the gentle caress of her mouth against his, the world around him faded to black.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the short Chapter folks. I could have went on but figured it was a good place to stop for now... ya know, building suspense and all that good stuff.
> 
> Hope you're enjoying Cullen and Calista's story so far. We haven't even gotten started so hang in there.
> 
> And thank you very much to all that have left comments or kudos for this story. It's my first attempt at fanfiction and so far, I'm very much enjoying writing this.


	7. Chapter 7

The gentle breeze ruffled his hair, sending some relief to his overheated skin. Slowly, he opened one eye and glanced around, noting that the world was presenting itself sideways. Fingertips gently combed through his hair, nails scraping across his scalp from his temple to the nape of his neck. His other eye popped open gradually and as he blinked back the confusion from his mind, Cullen little by little found himself getting a grasp back on reality.

He made to try to sit up as his gaze wandered about his surroundings, the twilight bathed woods not the last place he remembered being. The hand that was previously in his hair came to rest on his shoulder and tried to firmly hold him in place.

“Take it slow at first,” Calista’s lyrical voice admonished. “If you try to sit up too fast, you may undo everything I’ve done.”

“And what exactly might that be,” Cullen asked, his voice scratchy and hoarse and tinged with a hint of irritation. He did not like this feeling one bit… confusion, having magic used on him without warning or permission. If it had been anyone else, he most likely would have gotten angry, probably raised his voice, and most definitely would have said some very unkind things he would have wished he could take back once his anger had subsided. But for some reason, he was holding that anger in check quite well. He just could not imagine himself unleashing that side of himself around her.

“I healed the wounds on your back and…” her words trailed off into an incomprehesible murmur.

“The wounds on my back and… What?” Cullen prompted.

“You may have experienced a minor head wound, but it is nothing to worry about. I fixed that too.”

“Makers Breath! How did I…”

“Well,” she sighed. “You may have bumped your head once… or a few times, when I dragged you out of the cave… by your feet.”

“I see,” was all he said. What else could be said? There were too many other twists and turns the day had taken to concentrate on at the moment. Cullen cautiously sat up, his head swimming a little. The breeze blew again, sending a faint chill over his bare torso, making him realize that he was naked from the waist up. “Where’s my tunic?”

“Torn beyond repair. I removed it and left it behind in the cave.”

Cullen turned his body so that he could finally look at her, still able to make out her features in the fading rays of sunlight slipping through the tower of trees. She didn’t look so well, her face paler than normal. She leaned against the trunk of an old oak tree, one arm dangling by her side, the other resting across her abdomen, her legs stretched out before her. He lifted one hand to her forehead, feeling her cold and clammy skin against his own. “Are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m just a little drained right now.”

“You overdid it healing me,” Cullen stated matter-of-factly.

“It’s fine,” she repeated as a shiver caused her body to tremble. “It had to be done. I just need a few minutes to rest.”

Cullen dropped his hand to his side and scooted closer to her, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and drawing her body into his.

“What are you doing?” Calista asked, shock tinging her voice.

“You’re cold… I’m giving you my body heat.”

As if too tired to argue, Calista sighed contentedly as she settled against him, her head resting against his chest.

They sat there in silence for a few moments before Calista finally spoke. “I assume you have questions,” she prompted.

“Mmmm,” Cullen muttered, contentment washing over him. He was enjoying the feel of her in his embrace just a little too much.

“I do not have all of the answers yet. But I’ll tell you what I can.”

“Let’s start with what happened in the woods and end with my waking up here.”

Calista inhaled a shaky breath. “I don’t really know how to explain. I was walking, picking flowers, elated from the hunt and then… this voice called out to me, softly at first. But then it got louder and louder until it no longer sounded like a voice but a high pitched screech in my ears. It was pulling me, tugging me so hard that I felt unable to resist.”

“And so it pulled you to the cave… to the Eluvian?” He felt her nod against his chest. “And then you touched it and everything went insane.”

“I don’t know… I just felt compelled to do so. And then something magical happened. I know this might not make sense, but it was as if a missing piece of myself had been returned.”

“Has your memory come back?”

“Not exactly. I can only tell you that I remember being with my clan, asleep and warm in my tent. We were attacked and then… nothing.” She lifted her head from Cullen’s chest and looked him in the eyes. “I have this enormous chunk of time missing. It’s almost as if the memories are there and begging to break free and yet I just can’t get a grasp on them. It’s the same as not being able to speak in your native tongue prior to touching the Eluvian. I could hear the words in my head, could understand everything you and your family were saying to me but when I tried to speak them, they were lost on the tip of my tongue. But when I touched that Eluvian, the words came back to me. Oh and I remembered one very minute detail.”

“And what was that?”

“That Eluvian is how I got here, to this place and time. As I said before, I must have left a piece of myself behind when I passed through and that was what was calling to me.”

Cullen shook his head. “But that makes no sense.”

She sat up completely and turned to face him, folding her legs beneath her. “Of course it may seem that way. But that Eluvian is tainted with old Elvhen magic. And as we both know all too well, there is no rhyme or reason when it comes to magic of any kind… especially the old Elvhen kind. You of all people should not be surprised.”

His eyes flicked up to hers, searching her face. “Me of all people?”

“Yes. You _are_ a former Templar are you not?”

“How did you…”

“I know Templars. I lived in a circle once before, so trust me when I tell you… I _know_ Templars. But you are different than the others.”

“Wait. You lived in a circle?”

“Yes. It is a long story and one that I do not wish to discuss right now. Needless to say I was forced to live in a circle for several years. Can we just leave it at that?”

“Very well.” And Cullen would leave it at that, for now. But it was definitely a conversation to be had at a later date, among many conversations that needed to be had later. “How am I different than the Templars you have known?”

“For one, you are much kinder. And your blood does not sing.”

“Lyrium,” Cullen offered as a way of explanation to the  _singing_ blood, or lack thereof.

“Yes. I do not feel its presence.”

“That is because I stopped taking it many years ago.”

“Remarkable. That must have taken a lot of courage.”

“It too is a long story and one that I do not wish to discuss right now.”

Calista threw a crooked grin at him. “It seems you and I are more alike than I thought.”

“Perhaps we are." Cullen held her gaze, studying those intense eyes of hers, the contours of her face. He was becoming lost again and had to force himself to look away, clearing his throat nervously as he glanced up towards the darkening sky. “It will be dark soon. How are you feeling?”

“Drained still. We may need to spend the night here.”

“I could try to carry you back,” he offered in way of a solution.

“It is too far and you are still recovering from your own injuries as well.”

“Which reminds me… What exactly did you do to me?”

“It was a simple sleep spell. I needed you to be unconscious while I pulled those shards out of your back and healed you. I’m sorry. I don’t usually use magic on someone without their permission but I felt it necessary.”

“It’s alright. I owe you a thank you, I suppose. However, neither one of us is going to be alright if we don’t warm up soon. I should try to at least gather some wood.”

Calista lifted her hand and pointed one finger forward in the darkly shrouded woods, shooting a small ball of flame out before her. Cullen watched it soar through the air and land, igniting a bundle of tinder and limbs on fire.

He glanced over at her. “You are impressive.”

“I gathered it before I began healing you, just in case. I wasn’t sure how much it would take out of me and I wanted to be prepared.”

“That was smart thinking.” He stood up, swiping his hand over his backside to loosen whatever dirt and debris was clinging to his breeches. Cullen stretched his hand out to Calista, who in turn placed hers in his and allowed him to pull her to her feet. He watched her wobble and teeter and quickly wrapped his arm around her waist, yanking her into his body before she could lose her balance completely and fall back to the ground. Without a moment of hesitation, Cullen lifted her into his arms, one arm behind her knees and the other around her shoulders. He cradled her against his chest and held her there for a moment, his body reacting in such a way to the feel of her in his arms. Calista’s face was a mere breath from his and even though full twilight had now swept across the sky, bathing the woods in moonlit darkness, Cullen could still make out her features. He could feel the intensity of her stare. “You kissed me,” Cullen said, his voice sultry and deep. “Earlier in the cave… You kissed me.”

“I did,” was her soft reply.

“Did you do so only as a distraction?” he asked, praying to the Maker that the kiss meant a little something to her.

“It was meant to be a distraction, yes. But…”

“But?” he prompted with bated breath.

Wordlessly, Calista wrapped her arms around his neck, twisting in his embrace and craning her neck so that she could softly place her lips upon his again. Cullen felt his stomach drop and his world begin to spin. Her mouth moved over his tenderly, drawing his bottom lip between her teeth as she nipped at him playfully. Cullen let out a low growl. It was maddening what this woman was doing to him. His entire body felt alive, buzzing and basking in the glow of something so simple as a kiss. He wanted more, his soul craving more… more of her, more of this feeling of being alive. But the kiss… he could drown in the feel of her mouth moving against his, the way her fingernails raked through his hair. He felt combustible, on the verge of erupting into flames at any moment. And all of this just from a kiss. Maker help him, but he was about to come undone.

Calista was the first to come up for air, his bottom lip still trapped between her teeth as she leaned back, tugging at him gently before her mouth left his completely. Both of their breaths were coming rapidly as they held each others gaze in the darkness. “That was…”

“Quite the kiss,” he said softly, finishing her sentence.

“This feels so unreal,” Calista whispered. “We barely know each other.”

Cullen nodded. “Which is why we leave it here for now.” They may have barely known each other and yet, he felt like he had known her forever. There was something familiar about her, something that put him at ease. These feelings were something they would have to examine, but not now. There were more pressing matters than the growing affection he felt towards the Elvhen Mage.

“I agree… For now.”

Cullen nodded again, trying to regain control of himself. Wordlessly, he walked over to the glowing fire and knelt down on his knees so that he could gently place her on the ground. Just as he made to move away from her, Calista latched onto his forearm, halting him in his retreat.

“Lay with me?”

He swallowed back the lump in his throat and took in a steadying breath. “If that is what you wish.”

“Cullen,” Calista chuckled softly. “I would not have asked otherwise.”

“Forgive me,” he sighed, shaking his head to clear the rampant thoughts running amok. “I am… rather distracted by you still.”

“I guess I should apologize,” Calista offered and then sighed playfully. “However, I rather like the idea that you are distracted by me.”

Cullen sent a silent prayer to the Maker as he stretched out next to her on the soft grass, praying that he could keep it together long enough to sleep next to her. He was not some inexperienced teenage chantry boy who had no self control so why did he feel that way right now? He had never quite been attracted to a woman as he was to Calista and because of that reason alone, he did not trust himself to be this close to her. Her proximity was doing riotous things to him. “I’m glad you find this amusing,” Cullen grunted between clenched teeth.

“I’m sorry, Cullen. I’ll be good,” Calista promised and then reached for his arm and pulled it around her midsection as she scooted her firm little backside against his cock, forcing Cullen to concentrate on his breathing, to think of anything other than ripping her clothes off of her body right then and there and showing her exactly what she was capable of doing to him.

“Maker take me,” Cullen whispered in her ear, “but you are going to be the death of me, woman, if you keep moving around like that.”

Calista wiggled one more time, pulling an involuntary groan from Cullen. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I’ll try to be still.”

“It would be much appreciated.”

They both grew silent and as much as Cullen tried to reign in control over himself, his body was still vibrating and buzzing from being so close to Calista. It was one thing to be attracted to the mystery that was her, the thought of the woman he did not know and could not have. But the obstacles were coming down. With the language barrier between them now gone and her true personality finally shining through, his attraction to her was evolving into more than just physical. And if it wasn’t bad enough, the idea of what having her would be like, she had to go ahead and kiss him… twice. Now his imagination was running wild with ideas of all of the things he would be willing to do to her, for her. If given the chance, Cullen would make this woman feel so amazing she would never want to leave him.

But wait… was that what he wanted? He barely knew her and yet the only thing he wanted to do was make sure he had the chance to know more… to make her want him so much that she would be unable to survive without his touch. And perhaps the day had played out unlike anything he could have imagined. Yet, she had agreed to table things for _now_ … Which meant if he played things just right, Cullen might actually have the chance.

 

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Cullen stared off into the distance, his gaze concentrated on absolutely nothing in particular. But his mind… oh his mind was focused on one thing and one thing only. Of all of the plans that Maerel and Dorian could have come up with…

It was a terrible idea for reasons he couldn’t even begin to express. He was sure that neither Dorian nor Maerel could hardly fathom what they were asking of him. No one knew his inner most thoughts about the one place he swore he would never return to. Cullen had made sure to keep his memories of that horrific time in his life to himself. And yet, he had vowed to do whatever he needed to do to help Calista. Even if that thing he had to do to help meant taking a walk back through a past he just as soon forget.

And to think the morning had started out with a little promise. Not much… but he would take a little after the prior day he had had. He had awakened early in the day, Calista not quite in his arms but face to face and barely a breath apart. He had opened his eyes long before she had and took the moment to study her as she slept, her expression full of peace and bliss. He felt a bit creepy watching her sleep but could not help himself. He was fascinated with the way her eyelids fluttered as she dreamed, those long thick lashes of hers feathering across her flawless skin. Her lips puckered as she blew out a soft little breath… and as he watched those lush lips of hers, his mind kept tracing back to the kiss they had shared the night before… the same kiss that would not be spoken of today. For now, it was best to leave what had happened alone. There were so many more important things that needed to be first and foremost on their minds. There would hopefully be more time to explore the attraction he was feeling for Calista, when things didn’t seem so dire.

Her eyes had slowly opened and met his, a leisurely sweet smile directed his way and Cullen had melted all over again… What was it he had just determined about leaving what had happened between them the night before alone? Oh yes! More important things to deal with than the incessant desire to claim her lips.

They had traveled back to the hunting cabin in perfect silence, neither one really knowing what to say to one another and quite content with the quiet hovering around them. Once they had gotten back to the cabin, Calista had gathered the bag of sweet smelling soaps and shampoo Mia had brought for her and sauntered off back into the woods and to the waterfall to get cleaned up. And Cullen had gone straight for the communication crystal to see if there had been a message from either of his friends. He was so grateful to find a message from Dorian… grateful that was until he actually listened to it.

It was such a terrible idea they had hashed out and would have only been less terrible if he had been able to come up with something better. But both Dorian and Maerel had obviously picked up on the special _something_ being more of a special _someone_ and decided that travel to somewhere that would be inconspicuous would need to be involved. But of all the places they could have picked… Cullen was not happy to say the least.

“Why do you look like you’ve seen a spirit or something?”

Cullen looked up at her, Calista’s voice pulling him out of his silent brooding. She looked fresh and clean in a new pair of loose cotton breeches and white tunic, her hair pulled to one side and damp still from her bath in the waterfall. And again, his breath whooshed out of his lungs at just the sight of her.

“Cullen,” Calista sighed with worry when he did not immediately answer her. “What’s wrong?” she asked as she sat down on the ground next to him.

He turned to her and offered a pathetic smile. It was all he could muster. “It seems you and I are destined to embark on a journey together by both land and sea. It shall be remarkable,” he jested.

“What would be remarkable is if you would make some sense,” she chided playfully. “What’s going on, Cullen?”

Cullen shook his head and laughed humorlessly. “I’m sorry. Those are the words of my friend, Dorian. He… uh… tends to be a bit dramatic to say the least.”

“Wait… so you are serious? A journey by land and sea?”

“It appears you and I will be heading up to Highever to catch a boat.”

“A boat,” she nearly choked, running her long slender fingers through her hair. “And _where_ exactly is this boat supposed to be taking us?”

“To Kirkwall where we will be meeting up with my friend Maerel,” he all but groaned.

“Kirkwall? Isn’t that in the Free Marches?”

“Yes. You’ve heard of it?”

“I spent some time in Ostwick some years back, so yes… I have heard of it. I am also quite certain that the only way to get to Kirkwall from Ferelden is to cross The Waking Sea. Am I right?”

“You are.”

Calista shook her head. “Then there has to be somewhere else we can go.”

“There isn’t. Anywhere else would be too dangerous. And besides, I still have some friends in some pretty high places in Kirkwall. Unfortunately, it is the safest place for us to go right now.”

“That’s right… Your scar came from your commanding officer in Kirkwall… the one that…” Calista covered her mouth with both hands, eyes wide. “Wait a minute. Were you serving in Kirkwall when the Chantry exploded?”

“How is it that a Dalish Elf knows so much? I thought your people kept to themselves mostly.”

“We usually do, until _your_ people start screwing everything up and then leave us no choice but to get involved.”

“Oh _my_ people screw everything up? Meaning humans, or Templars, or both?” he asked, one eyebrow cocked and a severe expression on his face. Her words almost sounded identical to what Maerel had told him the first time they had met, his way of an explanation to being at the conclave when The Temple of Sacred Ashes had been decimated, leaving a giant green swirling hole in the sky. Perhaps it was a Dalish thing…

“Look, we can debate who is responsible for what until night falls and the sun ascends again tomorrow. It does not change the fact that this plan is not going to work.”

“And do you have a better idea?”

“No,” she said with a hint of finality.

“Because when I left Kirkwall, I promised myself I would never return to that Maker forsaken city so I have to tell you the idea of going back there does not bode well with me either. But I do not see a great many choices here.”

“Cullen… I can’t go.”

“So what? You’re going to stay here, holed up in this little hunting cabin?”

“No,” was her defensive reply.

“Then what other plan do you have?” he challenged, not meaning to sound harsh and feeling horrible at the drawn expression on her face. But there was no point in sugar coating the inevitable. This was their only option.

“I just… I can’t go. I _can’t_.”

“Why?” Cullen asked, crossing his arms stubbornly over his broad chest. “Give me one good reason why you can’t go.”

“Because, I just can’t,” Calista shrugged, and folded her own arms across her bosom, just as stubborn as Cullen. “Why won’t you leave it alone?”

Cullen sighed and threw his hands up in the air, frustrated with the situation, with the thought of having to go back to Kirkwall… a place that held no good memories for him and would remind him of the man he had left behind there, the man who had grown and changed… a man that no longer existed. He was frustrated with the stubborn little elf sitting next to him. How she could be so fucking frustrating and adorable all at the same time was beyond him.

Cullen abruptly stood up and began to pace, his hand finding its way to the back of his neck and rubbing furiously. “We have no other options here, Calista. So you have got to give me a damn good reason why you can’t go to Kirkwall because otherwise, I will personally throw you over my shoulder and drag you there if it means keeping you safe.”

Calista pulled herself to her feet and placed a halting hand on Cullen’s shoulder, stopping him from his incessant pacing. “I promise to you, I’m not trying to be difficult here. I appreciate you and all that you are doing for me. I just can’t go to Kirkwall.”

Cullen turned to face her, dropping his hand from his neck and crossing his arms again over the hardened planes of his chest. “Why?” he insisted.

She blew out a frustrated breath and sighed. “Because I get ill on boats… like stomach twisting, face turning green, vomiting, sick. I can’t do it.”

Cullen reigned in his frustration and hid the smile that was about to peak through. So, she got seasick. That was not even close to one scenario he had formed in his mind. Getting a little sick on the sea was something they could easily deal with. “Oh,” he simply said.

“So we need a different plan… one that does not involve me puking for days on end.”

“I’m sorry,” Cullen said with a kindly shake of his head. “There is no different plan. Because once Maerel meets us in Kirkwall, we are going to be heading to Tevinter to meet up with Dorian.”

Calista glared at him before beginning to pace herself. Cullen watched as she walked back and forth before him. He could see the wheels turning in that pretty little head of hers, could actually see the internal debate going on in her mind. He remained standing still, arms still crossed over his chest, and just watched her come to terms with the inevitable, just as he had done when he had learned of this Maker forsaken plan.

She finally stopped pacing and turned to him, a forced smile in place. “When do we leave?”

“Within the next day or so. It will take us a good four to five days to get to Highever. And then the trip to Kirkwall is probably another three to four days. We need to get going as soon as we can so that we can meet up with our contact in Highever. If we miss them, we miss our boat.”

“That wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing,” she pointed out with a wry smile.

“We’ll talk to Mia and see if there’s some remedy or draught she knows about to help with sea-sickness.”

“Oh fine,” Calista threw her hands in the air and turned on one heel to walk away. “I guess we’re going to Kirkwall,” she said over her shoulder before disappearing inside the hunting cabin.

“I guess we’re going to Kirkwall,” Cullen repeated her words, his voice nothing more than a soft mutter.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the short chapter. I will try to get another one posted as soon as I can. In the middle of moving in the next few weeks and things have been kind of crazy. 
> 
> I'm trying to pace myself here, so if it feels like we're slow moving... I apologize. Can't give all the goods away at once... or so that was what my momma always told me.


	9. Chapter 9

They had packed up what few belongings they had and waited until nightfall before setting out on foot through the woods. If they were lucky, they would make it to the family homestead long before sunrise and Cullen could sneak Calista into his room without being seen. It wasn’t an ideal plan. But if they were to make it to Highever in time to meet his contact, they needed to get on with their trip. And the safest way for them to travel without being noticed would be at night. So…

The plan was to hide Calista in the house and away from curious eyes while he made all of the preparations for their upcoming travels. Cullen was determined to take care of the arrangements and procuring the supplies they would need for their trip himself. It was important to him. Besides, it would give Calista the chance to have a proper bath and eat a proper meal and hopefully get some proper sleep in a proper bed… _His_ bed.

At least someone would get a good rest in his bed for once. Maker knew he had always had trouble sleeping, no matter how comfortable the sleeping arrangements had been. And his sister had spared no expense in getting him a comfortable mattress when he had moved back into the family home. But sleep was a long lost friend he had failed to get reacquainted with over the years, only to be exacerbated by the loss of Angeline. But even with her warm body next to his, Cullen had never been able to sleep through the night without waking several times. He figured it must have been one of the side affects of quitting Lyrium and had succumbed to his destiny of never feeling fully rested.

They maneuvered through the bramble and brush of the woods on foot. Calista had even put on the shoes Mia had brought her. He had watched her in amused silence as she placed her feet into the remarkably well fitting shoes that had once belonged to Rosalie. Calista had caught Cullen’s attentive stare as she laced up the boots to her mid-thigh. He had offered her a smug grin, to which she had simply rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him. This had caused him to chuckle heartily and shake his head while continuing to pack up the few provisions they would need to get them through the nighttime hike back to the homestead.

The moon hung high and bright in the satiny blue sky, an endless ocean of stars sparkling in the darkened vastness. As they walked, Cullen caught himself throwing little glances Calista’s way, admiring the way the softly moonlit night enhanced her beautiful features.

“What?” she finally asked in her melodic lilting voice, having caught him stealing yet another glance her way.

“Mmm… nothing,” Cullen shrugged and focused his attention straight ahead.

“No. I don’t believe you. You keep looking over at me like you’re just waiting for me to stumble in these stupid shoes so that you can point and laugh, aren’t you? I’m on to you, Cullen.”

A laugh rumbled from deep within his chest and Cullen was surprised out his own mirthful chuckle. “I would not point,” he promised.

“But you would laugh,” Calista countered teasingly as she pointed one accusatory finger at him.

“That I would,” he agreed with a slight shake of his head and another quick laugh.

They walked quietly for a few more moments before Calista said softly, “I’m sorry about earlier. I honestly did not mean to come off as being difficult.”

Cullen lifted his shoulders nonchalantly. “It’s fine. I did not think you were being difficult at all. You don’t like boats. There are things I personally do not like myself that if I could avoid altogether, I would definitely be a happier man without.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

Cullen reached up and scratched the back of his head. “It’s not really that important exactly what, is it?”

“Cullen,” she chastised playfully. “If this friendship is to work at all, we must be willing to share everything… the good, the bad, and the utterly hilarious. So tell me. What makes my dashing and handsome ex-Templar shudder?”

He smiled in spite of himself… _my dashing and handsome ex-Templar_ … Her words settled over him like the soft warmth of a campfire. Thank the Maker that it was mostly dark out or she would have probably teased him relentlessly over the slight blush creeping over his cheeks. “Spiders,” Cullen finally muttered, embarrassment over his confession flushing his cheeks even more.

“Spiders?” Calista asked flatly.

“Yes, spiders,” he replied defensively.

“Well…” was all she said.

“Do not judge me, woman,” Cullen warned playfully. “I’m not talking the small spiders that sew webs in the corner of a wall. I’m talking those big, venom spitting spiders that used to roam Kirkwall’s coastal area. Those things were _huge_! And, if you got covered in their venom, the smell would linger on you for days.” He shuddered at the thought.

Calista chuckled as she danced a little ahead of him. “I’ve never seen those kind of spiders. But then, I’ve never been to Kirkwall or to the city’s coast. My clan roamed the forests of the Free Marches, never really staying in one area for too long.”

“Did that not get tiresome?”

Calista lifted one hand out and brushed her fingers across the dangling branches of a weeping willow. “The Dalish in me is supposed to say that home is wherever you lay your head at night. But if I were to be honest, it did get quite tiresome.” She stopped and waited for Cullen to catch up with her, falling in step next to him. “The only time I ever stayed in one place for a long period of time was when I was taken to the Circle.”

“How long were you there?” Cullen asked, curious if he would be able to get the full story out of her.

“Seven very long years,” she sighed. “I was quite young when I was taken there… eighteen to be exact.”

“That is how old I was when I finally became a Templar."

Calista glanced over at him. “Old enough to think you can take on the world by yourself, yet young enough to still get home sick.”

Cullen nodded in agreement. He couldn’t have said it better himself, for her words were so incredibly true.

“And in my case, old enough to wander too far away from my clan and young enough to be caught using magic while trying to build a fire and warm myself. Caught by Templars, of all things,” she chuckled humorlessly. “Lesson learned, though. For my folly, I was taken to the Ostwick Circle and remained there until the Mage Rebellion. When the circle fell, I went in search of my clan, revisiting all of the places we had frequented when I was younger. Unfortunately, I was unable to find them again. Luckily, another clan had found me wandering and took me in. It was very lucky, seeing that most clans will not take in a Mage that does not belong to their clan. But it was the strangest thing… all of their Mages had disappeared and they had only one… their Keeper. So, I was brought into the clan and began to apprentice under Keeper Belisarah as her First. But then, my new clan was attacked by bandits and… well, it is the last thing I remember… waking up to the chaos outside of my tent and then, nothing.”

“Maerel and Dorian will be able to help you, I think.”

Calista sighed. “I do hope you are correct, Cullen. Missing a significant chunk of one’s memory is disconcerting to say the least.”

They walked in silence for a few moments before Cullen cleared his throat nervously and said in a soft voice, “Thank you.”

“For what?” was her surprised response.

“Trusting me with your story,” Cullen replied simply.

“You’re welcome. But I must ask… do you trust me with yours?”

“Of course,” he answered without hesitation. It was a surprise to himself, how he did not even have to think about it. Cullen trusted Calista more than he could ever remember trusting another soul besides his family. “What story would you like to know?”

“I’m curious about the Lyrium.”

“Ah. It’s not a very interesting story. But I will tell it if that is what you wish.”

“I do,” she said quickly, her voice pitched with excitement.

“Very well. I was in Kirkwall when the Chantry exploded. I had taken over the Templars there shortly after, our Knight-Commander having gone mad and quite literally turned into a statue of Red Lyrium. I tried to help keep the Circle together, to aid the injured, give shelter to the homeless. The city was in a state of devastation and chaos after the explosion. Many died, many more suffered a fate worse than death. It was… horrible to say the least.”

Cullen let out a long sigh, forcing himself to continue. “I had spent over ten years as a Templar, had seen what the Order had become. And one day, I just decided I had had enough. I had given everything I had to the Order, and had nothing left to give. A good friend of mine approached me and asked if I would be willing to join their cause, to help lead their army and I agreed. The moment I chose to leave the Templars and that life behind, I decided to stop taking Lyrium.”

“So… you just stopped?”

“Something like that.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“It can be. The side affects were the worst. Headaches, cold sweats, uncontrollable shaking… and the nightmares… Oh the nightmares were sometimes so vivid, I would wake up not knowing what was real and what was a dream.”

“Oh Cullen…”

“It was worth it though,” he interjected quickly, not wanting her to feel an ounce of pity for him. He had endured, as he had with many other difficulties in his life. Cullen had endured and become a better man because of it, in spite of it. “I was not always a good man,” he added hesitantly. “I made some very bad decisions, treated some people harshly that was undeserving of such treatment. The man I had become… it was unworthy of me. I needed to change, to be a better person… a better man. It was a journey I needed to take in order to find myself again.”

“That is… very commendable of you, Cullen.”

“Thank you,” he replied softly. Oddly, he had known her only a few days and yet, her opinion of him mattered tremendously.

“How long has it been since your last draught of Lyrium?”

“Six years.”

“That is impressive. And how do you feel, six years later?”

“Truthfully? Some days I feel like a man old beyond my years. And other days, I feel great.”

“How old are you, Cullen? If you do not mind me asking?”

“I have lived thirty-six years? And you?”

“I… I’m not sure, truthfully. But I believe thirty-two, if I go by what year you say it is. I am unsure of how much time I lost.”

“I cannot fathom how that must feel, Calista. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you for that. Truly.”

Silence fell over them again as they walked in the darkness. This time, it was Calista who cleared her throat nervously. “I see glimpses, sometimes… in my dreams.”

“What do you mean?”

“In my dreams, I see the face of a man I do not know. He beckons to me, talks to me, but I can never quite hear his words... they are merely a hollow echo of nothingness. And his eyes… his eyes are always filled with so much sadness.”

“This man… is he Elf or Human?”

“Elvhen. Of that, I am certain.” Calista sighed. “He only haunts me in my dreams and if you asked me to describe what he looks like, I could not… All I recall of his features during my waking hours are those sad and woeful eyes. It’s odd, don’t you think?”

“All the more reason to seek out Maerel and Dorian.” Cullen blew a slightly bated breath out. “I know this impending trip is less than ideal. But this is all that I know to do. I hope you understand.”

Much to Cullen’s surprise, Calista reached out and grasped his hand in hers, halting in her steps and pulling him to a stop as well. He turned to her, Calista’s face illuminated by the iridescent glow of the moon and stars.

“I trust you, Cullen. It’s rather daunting how much I trust you, seeing that I barely know you. But the way I see it, you are the only person I actually do know in all of Thedas… You are my one and only friend in this very big and confusing world and so I trust you with my life. And if you say this is what we must do… then this is what we must do.”

Before Cullen could resist, even knew what he was doing, he lifted one hand to caress her cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing along her soft skin. He had never been so forthright with affection but with Calista, he could not hold it back. “Your trust means everything to me,” he said softly. “I swear to you, I will not let you down.”

Wordlessly, Calista stood on her tiptoes and leaned forward, pressing her lips to his cheek and whispered against his skin, “I know you won’t. And for what it’s worth, I will not let you down either.”

While her lips lingered against his cheek, he only had to turn his head a little to the left and their mouths would be touching and he could have captured her in a kiss. For what it was worth, she _had_ already kissed him… twice. And yet, Cullen refused to take that very small but rewarding step forward. He wanted to… Maker did he want to. But something was stopping him, was holding him back. This thing he was feeling for Calista was more than just physical attraction. Cullen was unfamiliar with these foreign emotions surging through him. He adored her for certain. But still… there was more. He enjoyed her company, listening to her talk, learning about her, figuring out her quirks… the gentle noises she made when she was frustrated or the gasps of delight when she was excited. Even in the dark, he could picture her facial expressions as she spoke. This was so much more than wanting a naked and warm body next to him… He wanted Calista, heart and soul. Such a nagging feeling was hanging over his shoulders like a heavy cloak… 

Cullen forced himself to face the truth, as he stood there staring at the graceful features of her face bathed in moonlight… for the first time in his entire life… Cullen could barely accept what was staring him dead in the face. The inevitable truth was… he was hopelessly and desperately falling for her. So that was what this felt like…

“Er… maybe we should… um… perhaps we should continue walking,” he said clumsily. “We shouldn’t be too far now.”

Calista nodded in silence and released her hold on him. She threw a peculiar look over her shoulder before offering him a slight grin, barely visible in the pale light of night. Shaking her head with a soft chuckle, she walked ahead of him.

Cullen shook his own head at his stupidity… Why did he always have to take what could have been a perfect moment and screw it up with mindless babble? He could have a normal conversation with her one moment and in the next, be a bumbling, stumbling fool. How did she have the power to turn him into mush just with a simple press of her lips to his cheek! And why did he have to be so incredibly bad at this! With any luck at all, he would figure this thing out before she had the chance to realize what a fool he truly was. Cullen let out a long and exasperated sigh before picking up his pace to catch up with her. They should be at the family homestead soon enough and then they could both try to get some sleep before they faced the next phase of their journey together… getting ready for their trip to Highever.


	10. Chapter 10

Cullen snuck them both into the main house through the back door. It was an effortless task seeing that the entire household was fast asleep. By the looks of the sky outside, daylight would be upon them soon and if he had any notion of making it to his bedroom undetected, they needed to move quickly.

He folded Calista’s tiny hand in his and tugged her through the darkened den and into the library where he lit a single candle on top of the heavy wooden desk and began shuffling through the drawers for parchment and ink. He laid both on top of the desk and spared a slight glance at Calista who had wandered over to one of the shelves and was examining the books in the soft light the single candle was giving off. Cullen smiled thoughtfully at the little Elf before very hastily scribbling a note for Mia to let her know he was there and resting in his room, that they would speak tomorrow once he had gotten some sleep and he would explain everything.

Once the ink was dried, Cullen walked up behind Calista and reached for her hand again. She offered him a sweet smile as she allowed him to lead her out of the library and up the stairs. Cullen winced as the wood floor creaked beneath their footfalls, hoping that they could make it to his room unscathed. He was just too tired at this point to try to explain anything to his siblings and simply wanted to sleep.

He shoved the letter he had written to Mia under the door of her bedroom and then after adjusting the bag he had carried back with them from the hunting cabin higher onto his shoulder, Cullen released Calista’s hand and placed his palm at the small of her back, basically steering her towards the door to his room. He turned the knob as quietly as he could, shoved her inside before him, threw a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure no one had seen them before following her inside and softly shutting the door behind him.

Cullen leaned his back against the door as he slid the bag down from his shoulder and dropped it on the floor by his dresser. His eyes settled on Calista who had already dropped her heavy bag by the bedside table. She meandered through the miniscule space of his room, before stopping next to the bed and glancing his way, one brow cocked, arms crossed over her bosom.

“So…” she said slowly, taking a seat on the side of the bed with a heavy sigh. “I’m pretty worn right now. Is it alright if I sleep here?”

“Of course… I can sleep…” He looked around the small space trying to figure out where he could possibly stretch out and get some rest himself.

“I won’t put you out of your own bed, Cullen. I trust that we can sleep next to one another and both still have our respectable reputations in the morning,” she jested playfully with a half smile.

“Yes,” Cullen said rather quickly and lifted a hand to his disheveled hair. “What I mean to say is…”

Calista chuckled and shook her head as she reached down and began to untie her boots. “Relax, Cullen. I promise to stay on my own side.”

“Right,” was his curt response. Cullen cleared his throat and walked over to the opposite side of the bed. He toed off his own boots and slid them off to the side with his toes and towards the end table before taking a seat on the mattress. He scrubbed his face with his hands, slid his fingers through his hair again, and sighed. Cullen felt the mattress shift beneath him and glanced over his shoulder to Calista who had stretched out on her back, hands clasped over her stomach, fingers threaded together.

Her lids were closed and as if feeling his attention on her, she opened one eye to look at him and threw a smirk his way. Cullen held his breath as he stretched out next to her on his back, one arm bent behind his head and the other resting across his stomach. 

“Goodnight,” Calista muttered.

“Mmm… night,” he managed to say softly back and stared at the ceiling until sleep finally claimed him.

  
~*~

  
Cullen wasn’t sure what time of day it was, nor did her care much at that moment. He only knew from the way the sun swept through his window that it had to be close to noonday. The fact that his siblings had let him sleep was a small victory in and of itself.

Cullen felt the soft warmth curled up next to him, felt the silken strands of hair tickle his nose and as he blinked his eyes open, his mind focusing in on his surroundings, Cullen happened a glance down at the woman who had somehow managed to snuggle up into the curve his body in her sleep.

Her head was nestled in the crook of his armpit, her cheek resting against his chest. He could feel her soft breath through the thin fabric of his tunic. His arm encircled her so that his hand rested on the curve of her hip. As his mind began to awaken and Cullen suppressed a yawn, he couldn’t help but feel more well rested than he had in years. Any other time, he would be on the verge of hyperventilation at the thought that he and this woman were comfortably cuddled together in his bed. But not this morning. He felt enveloped with a sense of serenity and instead of worrying about what was appropriate and what wasn’t, with a faint smile, he closed his eyes again and just allowed himself the feeling of having her in his arms.

Cullen would have stayed like that, warm and cozy in his bed with Calista curled into him, as long as she would have allowed it. Perhaps it was that he was still too half asleep to over analyze the situation, to dissect it like he did most things. He just wanted to revel in it a few minutes longer. And while basking in the feel of Calista next to him, Cullen had somehow allowed himself to fall back asleep…

He had barely drifted off when he felt Calista’s less than subtle movements next to him. With the effects of his sleepy mind still coming into play, Cullen tightened his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him, burying his face into her hair and breathing in her scent deeply. She smelled of the soaps that Mia had given her, a mixture of lilac and honey filling his nostrils. He felt her stiffen next to him and Cullen could almost picture the panicked look that had to be marring her exquisite features. Again, he did not care. He just wanted to keep her close to him a bit longer.

“Good morning,” he muttered against her hair, his voice deep and rich from sleep.

“Er… morning,” Calista managed.

“Sleep well?” Cullen asked, eyes still closed and his arm tugging her closer to him, if that was even possible.

“Mmm…hmmm,” she purred as she relaxed a little and allowed him to snuggle her.

“I’m glad,” he whispered against the top of her hair.

He allowed his hand to brush down the length of her arm, grazing over her soft skin. He rolled his body towards her so that his free arm could draw her fully into his embrace. His fingertips glided up and down her spine ever so slowly. Cullen felt her shiver and without sane thought or hesitation, he quickly shifted their positions so that her back was pinned against the mattress and he was stretched out on top of her, his fingers working their way from her back to her shoulder, tracing along her neck and collarbone. He lifted his face to hers and finally opened his eyes, her own staring back at him, wide and befuddled. “You are absolutely beautiful... but in the morning when you first wake up... you take my breath away” he said with a small smile, brushing her jawline with his knuckles.

Cullen did not know what had come over him. This was so out of character for him… He had never been one to be this brazen before. But as his gaze took in the perfectly flushed skin of her face, those long lashes feathering across her cheeks as she closed her eyes, those plush lips parting slightly as she let out a slow breath… He felt bold and brash and without thinking, leaned just a breath closer and placed his lips against hers.

At first, he heard her gasp and felt her stiffen awkwardly in his embrace. But her hesitance did not last long as her arms came around his neck and her mouth began to move against his. Their kiss was slow and gentle at first, soft lips moving against each other in a careful whisper. Yet the moment he felt her teeth graze his bottom lip, Cullen could not control the urge to devour her.

His hands were in her hair, tugging gently at the soft tresses while his tongue parted her lips. She met his desire with a hunger of her own… tongues tangling together in an erotic dance. She bit his bottom lip a second time, much harder than she had before and a low growl escaped Cullen as he shifted his body against hers, one hand untangling from the raven strands of her hair and slowly sliding across her jawline, over the column of her throat, and finding her breast, his palm covering the hardened nipple straining against her shirt.

Calista arched her back slightly, a soft moan escaping her as he flicked the pad of his thumb over the sensitive bud. He rubbed his finger against her, back and forth, back and forth, eliciting such sweet little moans and purrs from her. Calista’s hips lifted off of the mattress and Cullen placed one leg in between her thighs, releasing his hold on her mouth long enough to prop himself up on one arm and use his free hand to lift the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head so that her torso was naked and exposed for his hungry gaze. He devoured her perfectly naked breasts with his eyes, his hands aching to cover the rose-colored flesh of her nipples, his mouth watering at the thought of tasting her bare skin. His warm amber eyes dared a glimpse at her face, looking for a sign, any sign that she wanted him to stop. And as if she knew the thoughts swirling in his lust filled mind, Calista bit her bottom lip and nodded, her stare intensely filled with the passion he had ignited within her.

He covered one breast with the palm of his hand, rubbing back and forth in slow leisurely circles while he wet his lips and leaned forward timidly. Cullen chanced a glance at her face once more, giving her one last chance to stop him. Her eyes were closed, her bottom lip still trapped between her teeth as she stretched her arms above her head like a purring feline and moaned softly. _Makers breath but she was beautiful_! Cullen could not fathom why he had waited this long to take what he wanted. Trepidation now gone by the wayside, he wasted no time taking her hardened nipple into his mouth. He heard her gasp, which only encouraged him further. He sucked at the sensitive pink bud, allowing his tongue to flick back and forth against her. The harder he sucked at her, the more she wiggled and moaned. Cullen continued to roll her nipple between his thumb and forefinger while his tongue darted over the pebbled flesh of her other breast, pulling her into his mouth and sucking at her hard. Her whispered moans only encouraged him, lit him on fire from within. _Sweet Andraste, he wanted this woman_!

She bucked beneath him, her hips lifting against his thigh as if searching for some form of release. His cock strained against the confine of his breeches, throbbing and aching to be inside of her. He had to steel himself, take a deep breath, and concentrate solely on making this woman feel like her world was going to come undone. This was about _her_ , not him. And by the way she writhed against him, Calista was enjoying is attentions, causing Cullen to take great pleasure in that fact.

“Calista,” he whispered breathlessly against her breast as his teeth nipped at her. "Maker take me, but you are exquisite!"

“Oh Cullen,” she moaned softly, her tiny hands fisting the pillow above her head as she arched her back. “Please…”

“Please what?” his voice growled as his mouth continued its assault against her breast.

She lifted her hips against his thigh again and groaned, “I need you to touch me…”

Just as Cullen released his hold on her breast and allowed his hand to travel down across her slender abdomen, the moment he was about to slide his long fingers beneath the waist band of her breeches and give her what she wanted…

A loud knock came from the other side of his door. “Cullen,” Mia’s voice accompanied the knock.

He froze, as did Calista. Their wide eyes met and Cullen all but groaned aloud. “Yes Mia?” he gritted out between clenched teeth, closing his eyes tight and forcing himself to find some semblance of the control he was on the verge of losing completely.

“I am so sorry to bother you but I had hoped that you were awake so that we may talk.”

Cullen felt Calista’s body begin to shake beneath him and opened one eye to spare a glance at her. She had lifted a hand to her mouth, covering it behind the fit of giggles threatening to erupt from her. “Yes… I just need to… Uh… I just need to finish waking up first. I’ll meet you down in the kitchen shortly.”

“Alright.”

He waited a few seconds to make sure Mia had walked away before he glared down at Calista who was now giggling softly and uncontrollably. Cullen lifted one eyebrow. “Dare I ask what is so amusing?” he practically growled at her, his cock still aching painfully as it just realized it was not going to be getting what it wanted this morning after all.

“The look on your face, Cullen,” she chuckled. “It’s… adorably flustered and angry and...” She lifted one hand to his cheek and smiled at him. “ _You_ are adorable.”

Cullen shook his head. “I cannot quite find the same humor in this situation as you,” he muttered irritably. And then as if realizing for the first time the scene before him… Calista bare from the waist up… his hands and mouth had just been… “Maker! Calista, I am so sorry. I don’t know what came over me… I… that is we…” he struggled to sit up and away from her and only halted when she held him in place with one steady hand on his forearm, her other remaining on his cheek.

Calista’s hand slid from his cheek to his hair, her fingernails scraping across his scalp as she offered him a small smile. “Cullen,” she interrupted his ramblings. “Are you really sorry for what just happened between us… what _almost_ happened had Mia not knocked on that door?”

He thought about her words… his mind replaying the way she had reacted to his touch, had come to life for him, moaning and gasping and begging for more. She had wanted this as much as he had and for the first time in his life… Cullen would not dare apologize for acting on what he wanted. The truth was he desired Calista unlike any woman he had ever met and if Mia would not have knocked on that door, he would have taken her without any hesitation… and she would have let him. Once the thought that Calista obviously craved his touch just as much as he had enjoyed feeling her skin in his hands, tasting her with his tongue and his teeth… a crooked grin spread across his scarred lips. “No… I’m not sorry at all,” he whispered as his eyes searched hers. “Are you?”

“Only sorry that it has taken you this long,” Calista replied with a bright smile.

Cullen’s grin widened. “Is that right?”

Her reply was a simple nod of her head.

“Well… then my apologies,” he teased as he ventured to cover her lips with his own once again. Cullen felt himself being drawn into her embrace, lost in the feel of her mouth whispering across his and had to forcibly pull himself away from her. He blew out a sharp breath and shook his head. “You are… I have never felt anything like this before.”

“Nor I,” Calista whispered.

“With your permission, I would like to continue this at another time.”

One side of her mouth lifted in a wry smile, her eyes dancing with amusement. “Permission granted.”

“Excellent.” With a low playful growl, Cullen rolled away from her and onto his back, staring up at the ceiling in an attempt to get himself under control. “I must go deal with my siblings,” he sighed as he watched Calista out of the corner of his eye sit up on the bed and pull the tunic back down and over her perfect breasts… breasts he longed to touch and taste again. He felt his cock twitch and groaned, rolling out of bed and sitting on the side of the mattress, hands scrubbing across the stubble on his face. He blew out another long breath and pulled himself to a stand. “Meet me downstairs?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Certainly,” was her soft reply.

With a slight nod, Cullen walked to her side of the bed, leaned down and placed a soft kiss against her forehead before stalking over to the door. He took one more quick second to mentally shake himself back to reality before opening the door and heading downstairs to meet his siblings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh for Makers sake!!! Finally!
> 
> I am moving this week and so will be on hiatus until I get settled into the new digs. Hope this chapter was enough to make you wait for me to get the next one up ;)
> 
> Again, thank you to everyone who has left a comment or kudos on the story. Wish me luck on my big move!


	11. Chapter 11

Cullen softly closed the door behind him and leaned against the heavy wooden frame, closing his eyes and allowing himself if only a moment to play back what had just happened between he and Calista… to think about what almost happened and the possibilities of what could very well happen, given that they could find some uninterrupted time alone. He knew he shouldn’t be toying with such notions, with all that was going on around them. But if he had learned nothing else from his years with the Inquisition, with all that had happened to him over time, Cullen was well versed in the fact that life was precious and short. He was very much aware that he had a terrible habit of often spending way too much time over thinking. When he stopped trying to plan and prepare, to analyze every intricate piece of a situation, wonderful and amazing things happened to him, like this morning with Calista. He needed to make a better effort at just traveling the path life was leading him down, no questions and no hesitations.

Cullen made his way to the stairs, taking two at a time, and meandered into the kitchen to find both of his sisters and his brother sitting at the long wooden table waiting expectantly for his arrival. He offered them a sheepish smile, still feeling rather intoxicated on the moment that had played out with the sleeping Elf upstairs in his bed. “I know I have some explaining to do…” he began.

Rosalie was the first to jump from the kitchen table and throw herself into his arms, burying her head into his shoulder. “You had me worried about you, Cullen. I thought for sure something horrible had happened and then these two come home and tell me that you have somehow found yourself in yet another dangerous predicament.” Rosalie leaned back and narrowed her soft green eyes at him. “Unconventionally bad situations have a way of finding you, do they not?”

Cullen chuckled and wrapped his arms around his youngest sibling tighter. He and Rosalie had come a long way in their relationship since his return to the family. When he had left for Templar training, she had been so incredibly young that she had barely even remembered him. That first night back amongst his siblings, he and Rosalie had felt like nothing more than strangers, merely tied together by the bonds of blood relations. But now, they had become so close that the thought he had caused her any undue worry made him feel rather horrible.

“I’m very sorry,” he offered. “It was not my intention to worry any of you.”

Rosalie pulled out of his embrace, but not without leaning up on her tiptoes and placing a sweet kiss to his cheek. “I know this, brother. And yet, you are awfully good at stepping in it.”

He could hear Mia and Branson’s soft laughter from the table and shook his head, a small smile splayed across his face.

Rosalie took a step back, allowed her gaze to size him up from head to toe, and once she seemed content that he was okay and in one piece, she stubbornly crossed her arms over her chest and said, “So where is your Elf?”

Cullen glanced from Rosalie to Branson, who had lifted his hand to his mouth to cover his smirk, back to Rosalie. “This is Branson’s influence, no doubt.”

Rosalie lifted one shoulder to shrug nonchalantly and offered Cullen a smug smile. “I hear she’s quite the pretty little thing.”

“She is. You did bring her with you, did you not?” Mia asked brightly from the kitchen table.

“Yes. She is up in my bedroom getting a bit more sleep. We walked from the cabin to here over night and the trip on foot was a bit more exhausting than I anticipated.”

“If you would have waited another day or so, Branson and I would have been back,” Mia replied matter-of-factly.

“We do not have a day or so. I received a message from Maerel and Dorian,” Cullen explained as he and Rosalie joined Branson and Mia at the table. He reached forward and grabbed a ceramic mug and the metal kettle, carefully pouring the steaming tea into his cup before setting the kettle back down in the middle of the table. He took a quick sip of tea and reached for one of Mia’s freshly baked pastries. “It seems Maerel is requesting that I meet him in Kirkwall.” Cullen bit into the pastry and waited for his siblings immediate barrage of questions.

“So, Kirkwall,” Branson began. “I thought you said you would never set foot back in that city, regardless of whether your life depended on it or not.”

“I did say that,” Cullen nodded and took another bite of the apple tart.

“And what has changed?” was Mia’s turn at a question.

“It is the safest place for Calista and unfortunately, I agree. With Varric in the Viscount position and Maerel having a mansion right there in Hightown, I should be able to smuggle her into the city undetected. Once Maerel can pull himself away from Orlais, he will meet us there and then the three of us will be making our way to Tevinter to meet up with Dorian.”

“Tevinter?” Rosalie practically choked. “Is that wise considering your colorful past with Mages? I mean, Tevinter is run by Mages, Cullen. You know this right?”

“It appears Cullen has gotten over his Mage-phobia, thanks to his little Elf,” Branson smirked.

Cullen pointed one finger at Branson, glaring at him in warning. “Why I ought to…”

“Is it alright if I join you?” her voice rang softly through the room, causing all four Rutherfords to stop their banter back and forth and jointly turn their attention to the dainty Elf smiling at them from the doorway.

Cullen cleared his throat as he came to a stand, as did Branson. “Of course,” he said hoarsely and waited until she had taken a seat next to Mia before both men relaxed back into theirs.

Mia smiled at Calista as she reached for a mug and the tea. “So… that whole only speaking Elvhen thing…”

Calista gratefully accepted the cup from Mia and returned her smile. “It is rather a long story, but one I will share with you. I promise.”

Rosalie cleared her throat, handing Calista a dainty plate with one of Mia’s fresh apple tarts placed on top. “I’m Rosalie.”

Calista turned her smile to the youngest Rutherford as she took the plate from her hands. “Pleased to meet you, Rosalie. I’m Calista… Cullen’s little Elf,” she smirked, shooting a wicked smile at Cullen.

He nervously cleared his throat again, his hand involuntarily lifting to the back of his head so that he could rub at the nape of his neck. “Where was I…” he fumbled, feeling his cheeks warm up as all three of his siblings’ gazes were trained on him.

“You were telling them of our upcoming trip to Kirkwall,” Calista offered, taking a dainty bite of her pastry.

“Right.” He felt flustered. Common thought and words were lost to him. His eyes met hers and she smiled at him as she took a bite of pastry and it was all he could do not to sputter and stutter and make a perfect ass out of himself.

For some reason beyond Cullen’s comprehension, Calista picked up on the fact that he was flabbergasted and he could never express how grateful he was when she finally stepped in and took over the conversation. He was finding it hard to follow her words as his gaze fixed on her mouth, the way her lips moved as she spoke. Her voice, so soft and lyrical, hummed in his ears like a beautiful melody. He was captivated by her smile, her eyes, her musical laugh…

“Cullen?” Mia’s voice broke through his silent musings.

“Hmm? What?” he muttered, meeting his sister’s expectant gaze.

“Calista mentioned that you both would need to meet up with someone to catch a boat to Kirkwall.”

“Oh… right.” He forced himself back into paying attention to the conversation around him and as his eyes met Calista’s, that perfect little smirk tilting her mouth into a half-smile, he couldn’t help but clear his throat nervously. “Um… so… Calista and I need to be in Highever within six days to meet up with a contact of Maerel’s who will get us passage onto a boat and take us to Kirkwall, which is why we headed back here on foot. I need to get supplies together to make this trip.”

“What kind of supplies do you need?” Mia asked. “Perhaps we can help you.”

“Food, bedrolls, a tent… I will need to take one of the horses. However I fear I will not be able to return it to you.”

“Cullen, you are welcome to anything we have here to make your travels more comfortable… for the both of you,” Mia added, directing a sweet smile in Calista’s direction.

“Mia, you have been so kind to me,” was Calista’s adoring reply as she laid one of her dainty hands atop Mia’s.

“Don’t get used to it,” Rosalie smirked. “Once she’s assured that you have fallen completely in love with us that you’ll never want to leave, she’ll treat you just like she does the rest of us.”

“Excuse me,” Mia asked, hand dramatically placed over her chest.

“It’s true. She gets bossy and overbearing… Oh and has Cullen warned you to not get roped into a game of chess with her. She is a wicked bad loser. And if she beats you, she gloats for days.”

“I am seriously affronted by that, Rosie,” Mia jested.

“I am seriously not concerned by that, Mia. Since I am only being honest,” Rosalie countered.

Cullen and Calista both chuckled as they shared a look, their gazes locking to the extent that Cullen felt his breath hitch a little. He tore his eyes from hers, his hand finding its way to the back of his head again, his head drooping a little as he continued to listen to his sisters goad one another.

“I will go with you,” Branson said suddenly.

“I’m sorry… What?” Cullen’s head shot up, his hand dropping from the back of his neck.

“I will go with you… escort you both to Highever. Another set of eyes never hurt anyone. I will ride with you just outside of the city. You and Calista can take off on foot from there and I will return home with the extra horse in tow so we do not lose one from our stock. Everyone wins.”

“What about Ethan?” Cullen interjected.

“Ethan will be fine with Rosalie and myself,” Mia spoke up. “I think it’s an excellent idea to take Branson with you. When do you need to leave?”

“First thing tomorrow. But we must stay away from main routes. I cannot risk Calista being seen.”

“That should be no problem. If someone has a cloak I can wear, we can hide my Elfiness,” Calista snarked. “It’s usually the ears that are always a dead giveaway.”

Both Mia and Rosalie chuckled, while Cullen couldn’t help his own grin at her wit. His eyes lifted to Branson and he all but groaned at the knowing look his brother was giving him in return. Yep… there was no denying the truth, nor hiding it from his very perceptive brother… Cullen was undeniably smitten with the little Elf.


	12. Chapter 12

Cullen stifled a yawn behind his hand as he circled around the golden Forder he would be using for their trip to Highever, checking the straps on the saddle bags and making sure that their supplies were secured to the majestic gelding. He spared a glance over at his brother who was also checking and double checking his supplies. They had limited means between the three of them for the next week and both he and Branson wanted to make sure they left nothing behind.

It was with thanks to his brother that he was able to procure everything that he required in such a short time. The supplies he had needed didn’t amount to much and yet it was important that they planned every detail for the trek ahead. Cullen and Branson were used to trips like this, living off of the land with very little except the packs on their backs. But he wasn’t sure what Calista was accustomed to and wanted to make their travel to Highever as comfortable for her as possible. So he had made sure to pack a tent for her so that she could be afforded as much privacy as she needed, along with an extra blanket for warmth. It wasn’t much, but it was at least something.

While he and Branson had been busy working on supplies and getting everything packed and ready for the morning, the girls had taken Calista into the bathing chamber and made sure she had a nice hot bath and a clean change of clothes before they all met up in the kitchen for dinner, minus Ethan who Branson had been able to send out on a camping trip with his best buddy from town and family. It was a relief to Cullen because no matter how much he loved his darling nephew, the boy could not keep a secret if his life depended on it.

The family had eaten dinner companionably, all sharing stories of their childhood, growing up on their farm in Honnleath, their parents… and Calista had listened with such intense concentration as if she were soaking in all of their tales. Cullen had tried to hide his watchful gaze of her, his appreciation for not only how absolutely pretty she was but how she just seemed to fit there with his family. It was something Angeline had always had difficulty doing, fitting in with his family. His sisters especially. It was not for lack of trying. Mia and Rosalie were the kindest women he had known. They would give the shirts off of their back if they thought another needed them more. And they had been so with Angeline. But his late wife could never quite connect with Cullen’s loquacious and sometimes rambunctious sisters. Most of the time, she would sit quietly in the corner as they all talked around her, smiling timidly and nodding her head with slight interest. But Calista… she had laughed as raucously as Mia and had told stories of her own childhood that could eaisly compare to any that Rosalie and Branson could come up with. She had shared with them what it had been like growing up Dalish, roaming the forests of the Free Marches, tales of how she and her brother always seemed to find trouble and vice versa.

Cullen had remained quiet as he had picked at the meat on his plate and listened, silently hanging on Calista’s every word. And when dinner had been eaten and they had all pitched in to help clean up the remaining mess, much to his chagrin, Mia had ushered Calista off to sleep in Ethan’s room for the night. He had gone to bed in own his room shortly after, alone and without Calista’s company for the first time in days. And as he had laid there in his bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark, he had found it hard to fall asleep. It had been the soft sound of her breathing that had lulled him into a sound slumber the last few nights and without her there… he had just stared at that dark ceiling for what had to be hours, going over the final travel plans in his head somewhere between five and forty times… but who was counting. And Cullen hadn’t been able to dose off until sheer exhaustion had finally overtaken him.

So as he stifled another yawn and made one final pass over the straps of the saddle bags, checking the horse’s saddle a last time, he felt the weariness settle over him. He nodded absently as Mia said something in his ear about being safe while she had enveloped him into a hug, the same thing when Rosalie wrapped her arms around his waist and pleaded for him to make sure he brought himself _and_ Calista back when this was all over. At those words, something lurched in his stomach. He hadn’t thought any further past getting to Kirkwall. And he didn’t dare try to plan anything long term. But at Rosie’s words, Cullen felt his stomach pitch a little. Because he hadn’t thought about it before but now… he very much wanted to bring Calista back with him when this was all over. And yet there was a long and twisting road ahead of them where anything could happen.

Cullen situated himself into his saddle, as did Branson, and watched as Mia and Rosalie pulled Calista into their arms simultaneously. The three women hugged and Cullen saw Mia wipe a small tear from her cheek as he offered his hand to Calista, lifting her up into the saddle in front of him.

Their small entourage left the Rutherford farm behind and set out for their long journey to Highever. The plan was to travel until dusk before stopping and setting up camp. They had stopped only once in between to stretch their legs and give the horses a rest before saddling up and setting forth again, this time Calista riding with Branson.

Cullen and Calista had barely said two words to one another during their ride, Cullen wanting to ask her how she had slept, how her morning had been so far, to tell her that he missed having her close by him the night before to the point that he found it difficult to sleep. But he didn’t. Every single time he had opened his mouth to say something, words failed him. And so, they had ridden in complete and utter silence.

Branson and Calista however, were quite the opposite. Their ride together started out with witty and sarcastic dialogue back and forth that soon erupted into a very annoying game between the two of _I-Spy_. When they had tried to pull Cullen into their little game, he grunted irritably, rolled his eyes, and dug his heels into the horse’s flanks to speed him up and ahead. He heard Branson say to Calista, ‘What’s his problem,’ to which she replied softly, ‘I have no idea.’ Well that made two of them. He had no idea why he was so annoyed. But if he had to hear her musical little laugh another time at one more of Branson’s stupid jokes, Cullen would rip his own ears off of his head and toss them into the passing woods.

As dusk had started to fall across the orangish pink sky, they finally stopped to camp. Cullen had gone off to find them dinner, still as irritable as before, while Branson and Calista stayed behind to set up the tent and get their campfire going. When Cullen had come back with a string of five fennecs for dinner, he had returned to find Branson sitting by the fire alone, stoking the flames with a long stick.

Cullen tossed the dead animals next to his brother and tilted his head to glance into the tent. Still no sign of Calista, he settled his attention on to Branson who had begun to skin and prep the fennecs for cooking. “Where’s Calista?”

Branson lifted one finger and pointed towards the woods. “She headed that way. Said she wanted to get cleaned up a little after the long ride today.”

Cullen grunted irritably as he ran his long fingers through his hair. “You let her go off by herself?”

“I didn’t realize she needed to be babysat,” Branson retaliated, throwing a glare in Cullen’s direction. “What is your problem today? You have been an ass since we left.”

Cullen let out a long sigh, shaking his head as he dropped his hand to his side. “I’m just tired. I did not sleep well last night.” At least that was partly true.

“Are you sure that is all?”

Cullen nodded. “I’m sure.” But it wasn’t all. He couldn’t admit to Branson what was really bothering him. _Noooo_!!! Because if he were to say to his brother that he was pissed off that for some reason, he and Calista seemed so at ease together while Cullen himself always struggled with what to say and how to say it… that Branson seemed much better suited for the pretty little Elf… _Cullen’s_ pretty little Elf… Well, needless to say his brother would call him out for the stupid, jealous man-child that he was in fact being. He blew out a steady breath. “I’m going to go and find Calista… make sure she’s alright and let her know dinner will be ready shortly.”

“I’ll just be here,” Branson smirked as he continued to work on preparing their dinner.

Cullen silently chastised himself for his own ridiculous behavior throughout the day as he wandered through the darkening woods in search of Calista. It wasn’t that he was being a broody, moody prick on purpose. He just… he couldn’t explain what had come over him when he had seen Calista and his brother getting on so remarkably well. Perhaps jealousy would have been the best word for it. But it wasn’t just jealousy that was plaguing him. He was grappling with some strange emotion he had never felt before. Cullen wished he could be as eloquent with words as his younger brother… he longed for just an ounce of Branson’s wit and charm. But alas, he was always so flustered when it came to women. He had been lucky Angeline had found his lack of elegance with words charming. But could Calista say the same?

Cullen had been so lost in his own thoughts that he had barely noticed her as he stepped into the moonlit clearing. But once he lifted his head and narrowed his eyes to focus in the semi-darkness, a small smile erupted across his face. She lay in a meadow of pure white casa blanca lilies… they surrounded her, bathed in starlight from above. The sweet perfume danced on the light breeze that slightly ruffled the leaves on the trees surrounding the clearing.

As if sensing his presence, Calista sat up and turned to face him, a ghost of a smile barely visible in the shadows that covered her face. “How long have you been standing there?” she asked softly.

Cullen cleared his throat. “Not very long?”

“Do you intend to continue to stand there or would you care to join me?”

Wordlessly, he walked to where she sat and joined her on the ground. His eyes studied her face as she stared up at the stars.

“Calista… I… that is…” His voice faltered on what was supposed to be an apology for the way he had acted all day. Cullen shook his head and lifted his hand to the back of his neck, beginning to rub nervously. “It’s a beautiful night,” he offered instead.

“You want to talk to about the weather?” Calista asked, her voice tinged with a hint of irritation.

“No… I mean, yes… What I mean to say is…”

“Or do you wish to apologize for being an insufferable ass all day?” She turned her gaze to his and smirked.

Cullen dropped his hand to his lap, along with his gaze. “I suppose I deserve that.”

“You do,” she conceded. “But it’s alright. I already forgave you for it quite some time ago.”

“You did?” he asked, his head snapping up and his eyes meeting hers.

“I only needed to take one look at you this morning to know that you did not sleep well last night. Plagued by bad dreams again?”

Plagued by loneliness, was what he wanted to say. Instead, he nonchalantly lifted one shoulder and muttered, “You could say that. And what about you? How did you sleep last night?”

“Horribly,” she replied softly.

“Bad dreams?”

“You could say that,” Calista tossed back at him. She lifted her head back to the sky, staring at the massive stars dotting the darkened horizon. “But I think it might have had more to do with being apart from you.”

Cullen’s heart swelled a thousand times its normal size and he couldn’t contain the goofy grin covering his face. “Is that right?”

Calista continued to stare at the sky, silence stretching between them for what seemed an eternity. His heart deflated just as quickly as it had swelled, his mind reeling at the quietness flowing between them. She had verbalized the words that had been at the tip of his own tongue and yet perhaps her admission wasn’t necessarily the good thing he had thought it was merely seconds ago.

Cullen nervously cleared his throat again and swallowed the fear that was bubbling up inside of him. If Calista had it in her to be honest, then Cullen owed her the same. “If we are being truthful, I must confess that my inability to sleep last night had less to do with bad dreams and more to do with my missing having you there.”

In a matter of a heartbeat, Calista hurled herself at him, knocking him backwards onto the ground. His hearty chuckle at her impetuousness was cut off by her lips crushing down on his. She stretched out on top of him, her hands threading through his hair. He felt her tongue press against his, and allowed his own to dance seductively with hers. His fingers combed through her hair, roughly yanking the silken strands out of the loose bun at the nape of her neck. He threaded his fingers through her thick tresses as it spilled across her shoulders and down to the middle of her back while deepening their kiss further. Cullen could get lost for days in the softness of her lips. With his eyes closed, he inhaled her intoxicating scent, a combination of lotus and crystal grace.

He wanted nothing more than to remove her clothes and lay her down naked against the bed of white lilies, to kiss her bare skin from head to toe, to allow his hands to roam the length of her softly bare skin… to bury his cock deep inside of her…

Cullen suddenly pulled his mouth from hers, hooked one leg around her and quickly reversed their positions so that she lay beneath his body. He balanced his weight on his forearms, his fingers continuing to stroke her hair as his eyes met hers.

“You are…” Cullen inhaled a shaky breath. “I just… we…” Cullen rolled his eyes and groaned at his own inadequacy. Words failed him… they always failed him.

“What are you trying to say, Cullen?” she asked breathlessly, her chest rising and falling against his with each rugged gasp of air.

“I think that you are remarkable,” he finally managed to say. “And I find myself inexplicably drawn to you but…”

“You are not attracted to me?”

“No!” he said very quickly. “Quite the opposite actually.”

“Then I don’t understand…”

“When I take you… it is not going to be in the middle of an open field where my brother could walk up on us at any time. When I take you, I want to take my time and enjoy every inch of you… unhurried and without the worry that we will be interrupted again.”

Calista threw a sweet and yet seductive smile up at him. “You know, Cullen… you are absolutely charming and irresistible… when you are able to find your words.”

Cullen returned her smile with a boyish grin of his own. “We should head back to camp. Dinner will be ready and I do not want to worry Branson.”

Calista’s reply was a slight nod of her head. Cullen reluctantly pulled himself to his feet and then offered his hand to Calista, who gratefully accepted his offer and allowed him to tug her to a stand. Her arms instantly flew around his neck and with an alluring sideways grin, Calista shifted to her tiptoes and brushed her soft lips across his stubbled jawline. She pulled away and slid her hand into his, gently tugging him next to her so that they could walk hand in hand back to camp.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been away for a while. Struggling with writers block, laziness, and well... as you would know it, life sort of happened.
> 
> I am unsure of this chapter to be truthful and may go back and edit. But... I wanted to get it posted since it has been so very long.
> 
> Thanks to all of the comments and kudos that have come in my absence. And as always, please feel free to let me know what you think. Your comments mean the world to me...

Cullen sat astride his brown and white mare, Calista riding sideways in the saddle before him, curled into his body so that her sleeping head lay nestled against his broad chest. He and Branson had forgone camping on the final night of their journey, much to the softly snoring elf’s dismay. She had groaned irritably as the realization that she was outnumbered had dawned on her and had silently rode behind Branson, sulking, until he had felt her body sagging against him and realized that she had fallen asleep. They had been able to move her to the horse with Cullen easily, Calista only stirring for a brief moment before mumbling incoherently and nuzzling up against his chest. She had slept there peacefully ever since.

He and Calista had managed to keep their distance from one another for the duration of their trip since that first night in the field of lilies, but their attempt to maintain space had been difficult to say the least. Cullen found his ability to keep his hands to himself faltering more and more day by day. It had been the little things that drove him the most towards the brink of insanity. The simple brush of fingertips as they passed a meal back and forth or the feel of her body pressed against his during his turn to ride with her as passenger astride his Forder… the stolen glances they shared across the licking flames of their campfire or the lingering gazes he could not help himself to as he watched her pull the covers of her bedroll up to her chin and fall asleep, the moonlit sky and the dying flames of the fire painting ethereal reflections across her features. With each passing day he wanted her more and the longing inside was eating him alive. Maker forbid the moment they finally found themselves completely alone in one another’s company. Cullen did not know how much more self-control he could muster.

They had ridden in silence for the duration of the night. And as the sun began to ascend against the deep blue sky, fiery orange slivers of light slicing across the darkened horizon, Cullen and Branson pulled their horses to a slow stop and stared down to the harbor city of Highever nestled between the hill they were cresting and the sparkling Waking Sea that stretched out as far as the eye could see. It marked the end of their journey thus far… and the beginning of a new one. Cullen lifted his hand to Calista’s face and gently stroked the soft skin of her cheek, causing her to momentarily stir and sigh as she scooted closer to his chest. He smiled briefly before lifting his eyes to his brother.

“I believe this would serve as a good time to part ways,” Cullen said softly to Branson.

“I could go a bit further…”

“No,” he interjected swiftly. “I do not want to even chance you being seen with us. Calista and I will walk from here. We’ll set up a small camp in the woods to the west and wait for dusk before we head into the city to meet up with our contact.”

Branson inhaled deeply as he ran long fingers through his hair and stared at the sleeping city before them before glancing at Cullen with one cocked brow. “Are you certain? I mean… if something were to happen and you needed an extra man to watch your back…”

“I’ve got a mage who can throw a mean lightning bolt if you get her mad enough... I’m not worried,” Cullen chuckled softly, causing Calista to lift her head and look around dazedly. One small hand lifted to her mouth in attempt to stifle a yawn before she stretched, forcing Cullen to quickly wrap his arms around her waist lest she stretch herself right off of the back of their horse.

“Where are we?” Calista mumbled between her stretch and yawn.

“Right outside of Highever,” Cullen replied. “Are you okay to walk from here?”

She nodded numbly as she maneuvered herself in the saddle so that her adorable little ass wiggled against Cullen in a most seductive way. He stifled a groan and slid out of the saddle, instinctively holding his hands out to Calista who leaned forward placing her hands on his shoulders and allowed him to effortlessly lift her from the horse.

Wordlessly, Cullen removed his bags from the brown and white Forder while Calista held onto the reigns, keeping the mare still. Branson had dismounted as well and was helping to gather what bags he had on his own gelding that belonged to Calista.

Cullen slung his and Calista’s packs over his shoulder and took a step back to watch as his brother pulled Calista into a brotherly embrace.

“Please take care of yourself,” he muttered into Calista’s hair, then leaned back and kissed her softly on the cheek.

Calista nodded and smiled before reaching to the cloak she wore so to lift the hood up over her head, obscuring not only the features of her face but the elongated ears that were a dead give away as to her origin.

Cullen patted her gently on the shoulder and then took a step forward himself, tucking his brother into a one-armed embrace before leaning back and offering him a genuine smile. “Thank you for accompanying us. You have no idea what this means to me.”

Branson wrapped his arm around Cullen’s shoulder and pulled him away from Calista. “Listen, I know you are this badass ex-templar who can handle himself in any fight someone brings your way and you’d cut any man or woman down who came within an arm’s length of trying to hurt her. But in the midst of you being some kind of Maker forsaken hero and protecting this woman who only a fool could miss how terribly in love with her you are… please take care of yourself. Mia, Rosie, and I would very much like to see you return in one piece to us when this is all over… both of you.”

There was no point in opening his mouth to contest the words that Branson spoke for they were as true as true could be. He would cut down any man or woman who tried to cause her harm. And the affection he felt for the elf that had waltzed into his life like a thunderstorm… literally… and had ignited feelings inside of him he did not even know he was capable of… Perhaps he was terribly in love with her. And perhaps he would die to protect her. But his goals pretty much aligned with his siblings’. He wanted to come home to them again, alive and well, and with his pretty little elf.

 

~*~

  
They sat huddled in their small tent, the sun having long ago disappeared amongst the clouds, a light mist giving way to a steady stream of rain. Luckily he had been able to pitch their small tent before the rain had taken over, preventing them from becoming soaked to the bone entirely. Yet there was still a dominant chill in the air and Cullen could clearly see Calista shivering slightly out of the corner of his eye.

“Are you alright?”

She nodded and offered him a weak smile. “How long until we head into the city to find your contact?”

“Not much longer. We just need to make sure that night has fully fallen. I cannot risk having someone see you.”

“I understand.”

“We have come too far to chance things now.”

“It’s quite alright, Cullen. I am becoming accustomed to this whole ‘being a pariah’ thing.”

Cullen reached for her hand, covering it in his own. “I’m sorry. I know this must be difficult for you.”

She laughed humorlessly. “You truly have no idea. But thank you.”

“Calista…”

“Cullen,” she waved a dismissive hand in the air. “There is nothing you or I can do to change this situation. The best we can hope for is that your friends have answers… ideas… anything.”

“I trust that they will,” he attempted to reassure her.

“And I trust you. So… we wait until nightfall.” Calista shivered again, her teeth chattering as she wrapped her arms around her torso and began to rock back and forth.

Wordlessly Cullen raised himself to his knees, lifted his shirt up over his head, and scooted closer to Calista, wrapping one arm around her waist and drawing her up against his bare chest. She did not even open her mouth to protest, but instead curled up closer to him to draw off of his body heat. They continued to sit in silence, the patter of the rain bouncing off of the tent. After mere moments, he felt Calista pull away. He tried to tighten his grip on her and pull her closer but she shook her head and ducked out of his grip.

Her eyes bore into him. “Neither of us will be able to get warm as long as we’re wearing these wet clothes, Cullen,” she finally said.

He swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat and drew his tongue across his suddenly parched lips. “Are you suggesting that we…” his words came slowly before trailing off, unable to continue as the idea of what she was very well suggesting began to swirl in his head,

“Undress, yes.” She finished for him.

“I… see,” he practically strangled out the words.

“Is there a problem with that?”

Of course there was a problem with that! He had barely been able to keep his hands off of her this long. But luckily he had had Branson around constantly to ensure that he maintain his distance. It was hard enough being in this fucking tent alone with her without wanting to capture her mouth in a brutal kiss, allowing his hands to freely roam the length of her soft curves… the swells of her breast… to devour her until she came undone in his arms and then slide his fingers inside the waist band of her breeches, to feel warm heat between her legs.

Cullen dragged trembling fingers through his dampened curls and sighed. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“But freezing to death is?” she asked, dumbfounded.

“No, but…”

“Then can we build a fire or something?”

He shook his head. “I’m afraid not. We are too close to the city and the smoke would draw unwanted attention our way.”

Another shiver wracked her body and Calista quickly arose to her knees, shaking her head. “I don’t care. I am freezing and I…”

He heard nothing else, her words flitting through the air like a wisp of light. His eyes widened as her hands found their way to the bottom of her shirt, lifting the hem up, up, up… exposing the creamy flesh of her lower abdomen, her rib cage, the under curve of her shapely breasts, and that’s where he stopped. His gaze lingering on those perfectly round breasts, the dusky tips hardened from the chill in the air just begging him to lean forward and cover them with his mouth.

Cullen had been so fixated on her breasts that it took him a minute to realize that her hands had now found themselves at the waistband of her breeches, trembling fingers working at the buttons. His stomach twisted into knots as she slid the wet leather over her hips, pushed them down long thighs to her knees… twisted on the covers they had lain over the ground for comfort so that she could tug the breeches from her calves and feet and tossed the wet garment in the corner of the tent with her tunic.

He watched in wordless fascination as she leaned forward, reaching for her bag, her breasts swaying hypnotically with the movement. It took him a moment to register what she was doing as she reached for inside of her bag. Before she could remove a fresh pair of clothing, Cullen reached out and wrapped his hand around her wrist. Her eyes met his and it was as if she was realizing for the first time the heat radiating off of him.

She swallowed and stared up at him, an intensity between them that could have set the world on fire around them. “Cullen… I…”

“No,” he said softly.

“But, I…”

“No!” was his more forceful reply. And without hesitation, Cullen wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her dampened hair, and dragged her to him. His mouth came down on hers in a fevered passion, the wanton desire churning inside of him like a typhoon. He heard a muffled sigh escape her, felt her hesitate for a fraction of a moment, before her mouth opened and allowed his tongue to tangle with her own. He pulled her body against his, felt her breasts slam into his bare chest as one hand slid down her spine, cupping her bare ass cheek in his palm and dragging her even closer to where she was forced to straddle his lap.

“I told you this was a bad idea,” he gasped on bated breath before crushing her mouth again in a searing kiss.

“An absolutely terrible idea,” she added as she came up for air.

Cullen dragged his mouth from hers, trailing hot kisses along her jawline, nibbling at her ear lobe. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Do you want to stop?”

“No,” he rasped, pressing open-mouthed kisses to her collarbone, his tongue gliding across her fevered skin to flick across her breast, lazily drawing circles along the rosy bud. He drew her nipple in between his lips, sucking her into his mouth. Calista cried out, her head falling back while he languidly sucked at her. Her hands wove through his hair, fingertips grasping desperately at the honeyed colored strands, holding him in place and urging him on.

He covered one breast in his callused palm, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger while his mouth completely devoured its counterpart, teasing and tasting. She rolled her hips against him and Cullen let out a low animalistic growl of his own. His free hand trailed back down her back and settled on the curve of her ass, holding her in place while he continued his assault on her breasts.

With careful coordination and precise movements, Cullen released his hold on her breasts, lifted his hands to her waist, and easily slid her to the ground so that she lay on her back, her long legs wrapped around his hips. His eyes remained locked with hers while he maneuvered himself between her legs and slowly stretched out so that his face was mere inches away from the warm heat at the apex of her thighs. Slowly and without wavering his eyes contact with her, Cullen leaned forward and slid his tongue along the bare folds of skin, his tongue drawing lazy circles against the sensitive bud in the midst of all that silken wetness. Her eyes closed, her head fell back, and she moaned. It was music to Cullen’s ears and so he slid his tongue along her wet folds again… and again, and again, and again, each time encircling the sensitive bud, sucking it into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth. And each time she cried out, her legs trembling as he brought her closer and closer to the brink of pleasure.

It was obvious Calista was on the verge of release and Cullen wanted to see her face when she came for him, wanted to watch as she cried out. He extricated himself from between her legs and slid up her body so that he lay beside of her, face to face. His hand slid between her legs, his finger easily finding the sensitive bud at their apex and rubbing circles against it. He watched as her back arched, her mouth opened and she panted softly. Her thighs trembled and she cried out. Cullen quickly drove one finger inside of her, wishing more than anything it could have been his throbbing cock but that would be saved for another day, when they had more time to explore, to taste, and touch. He glided his finger in and out of her wet heat, slowly at first and then more rapidly… in and out, in and out. He basked in the glory of her moans, of the way she bit out on a soft and pleading sigh, ‘Oh Cullen!’. His fingers worked inside of her, crooking his finger so that he could hit just the right spot and in a matter of seconds, her voice faltered as she screamed out one last time, her thighs coming together to close around his hand, the flood of wetness streaming around his finger. And as her orgasm flooded through her, the color in her cheeks pinkened and the contented sigh that escaped her pursed lips, Cullen withdrew his hand from between her legs and pulled her body flush against his, peppering soft kisses along her forehead, her eyelids, across her dainty nose. And he held her, content to do so as long as she would allow.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you have it. Cullen and Calista have consistently been inching their way towards sealing the deal. And it seems they have gotten one step closer.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed. I will be diligently trying to get the next one up within the next week or so. This story is already written in my head. It shall be an adventure!


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